Sincere Corruption
by Penner54
Summary: How can you find that Goody two shoes attractive? "Oh Bella, it is just her innocence that is so desirable. The idea of corrupting her... ahh well. She may have her freewill now, but soon she'll do only what I wish of her."
1. Whiskey Burn

Chapter One: Whiskey Burn

She looked at him appraisingly over her three fingers of firewhiskey. Who only knew what she would do if she were not magically bound because he was lawfully married to her sister. He was a sight. Blue eyes like ice. A hard square jaw and lips that were almost always set in a confident smirk. His eyes never let anything in. It made her laugh to think people thought eyes were the windows to the soul. This man had no soul and his eyes conveyed that very clearly. He was cold and calculating. Much like herself, she was pleased to think.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked him warily as she took a small gulp of her drink to hide her face from his view.

"Why do you care?" He asked, eying her long and hard.

"I don't. Yet what I've come to realize, is boredom makes you wonder stupid things. I suppose it could have been a conversation starter." She smiled as he gave a little chuckle. "But, if you'd rather sit here in the silence and glare at the passersby I'd be more than willing to join you if that's the game."

"Oh and how you do enjoy a good game, don't you Bella?" His blue eyes rolled over her face and she swore she could almost feel it. The sound of his deep melodic voice speaking her name made her long for more.

"As much as you do, if not more." He laughed again at her words. She took a larger sip than normal of the whiskey, pleased with herself. Her confidence began to rise higher than normal. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was just burning a deep path within her. She watched his face keeping eye contact with him. She couldn't think of anything to say. It was so unlike her. Finally he broke the eye contact, looking away into the distance of the pub. He didn't let his eyes roam, she noticed, but kept them glued in one particular direction. Curiosity besting her, as it always did, she turned her head, keeping the rest of her body peculiarly still, and tried to match whatever he was looking at.

"Are you seeing what I see Bella?" His voice was higher than normal, edging with excitement. She followed his gaze carefully until she saw what she thought he was seeing.

"Is that—"

"That would be a one, Miss Hermione Granger with… it looks like a man who I don't recognize." Bellatrix saw the woman. Her brown hair was wrapped tight in a hair tie, all loose strands tucked away behind her ears. The woman's face seemed serene. White, milky skin surrounded two shockingly round brown eyes bristled with black lashes. Her soft pink mouth was set in a simple smile. The sight made Bellatrix ill. What a disgusting waste of magic. If she wasn't being watched like vermin by the ministry she'd hex the simpering smile right off her pale face.

"She really has gotten quite lovely for a mudblood," Lucius said as he watched her and sipped his drink. Bella spit out the gulp she had taken to try to regain her relaxed composure that she had once held. The drops of firewhiskey rained over Lucius, making him glare at her incompetence. He waved his wand, cleaning himself carefully, ever so cautious of his appearance. "Do you need a bib beneath your chin to catch any liquid you can't proficiently get into your mouth now Bellatrix?" This time when he said her name it was not sweet, or making her swoon with the notes of his voice, but rather shook her a bit. She felt like an idiot.

"How can you possibly think that goody-two shoes mudblood is attractive? She reeks of _innocence_." Her tongue wrapped around the words, throwing them out as if they were poison to her.

"Oh Bella, how little you know of men. It is precisely her innocence than is so attractive. The idea of corrupting that gentle little woman is highly exciting." He eyed the brunette again, soaking in the way her head tilted to the side when she spoke. "Yet, she is a mudblood, therefore unworthy of being degraded by anyone of my standards."

"What do you care anyway? If your that hot for a boring lay why don't you go home to my sister?" Bella was beginning to get angry. She detested not being the sole focus of his attention.

"And be frozen by the ice bitch? Not tonight, dear sister." Bella rolled her eyes at being called his sister. The last thing she wanted to be to Lucius was a relative, even if it was only by a magical marriage contract. "I intend to fulfill my desires with one, maybe two of the lucky women here tonight." He caught Bella's eye as he got up from the booth they occupied and winked at her. "Find your own ride home tonight, I'm sure you'll be latching on to a worm yourself here tonight, no doubt. Have fun, and don't tell my wife!"


	2. Charmed

Chapter Two: Charmed

He heaved himself over the beauty that lay beneath him. She was beautiful. Her long black hair swam below her moving about with every thrust he gave. Her hazel eyes were full of sleepy pleasure and adoration for the man that moved above her. Her lips were full and painted a shocking red that he wanted to kiss off but the more he latched his lips to hers the redder her lips became—magic no doubt, he assumed as an afterthought. Finally he gave one final thrust, squeezing her breasts in his hands firmly and waited no longer than thirty seconds in that position, burying his face in her voluminous hair and rolled over next to her to catch his breath.

She sighed next to him, moving her left arm so that it was raised over her head, brushing her dark bangs out of her eyes and off of her perspiring forehead. She smiled hazily, pleased and thoroughly ready to fall into an undisturbed sleep. He watched her. His clear, blue eyes roamed over her body, the tan that was a golden glow on her glistening body, her high breasts and her long (and limber as he had just realized) legs now extended out, stretching her muscles. She might be worth seeing again.

He rose from the bed, twisting his neck around, cracking the bones, relieving himself of the stiffness of lovemaking. He sat on the edge of the bed reaching for his pants. He put them on slowly, ungrateful for the no longer being pleasantly naked with a gorgeous woman. Standing up, he walked to the bathroom and stood over the toilet.

Laying in the bed she heard him urinating, she smiled into the pillow that still carried his scent. He seemed to be staying in there for quite sometime so in the process of waiting for him she slowly drifted off to sleep, unknowingly.

Coming out of the bathroom he saw her lean body curled into what he knew to be a gentle after-sex sleep. She seemed so peaceful. He walked to the edge of the bed, picking up the rest of his clothing and got dressed while he watched her. Her breathing was deep and undisturbed by the soft noises he was making. He smirked at the smile she carried on her lovely, young face, knowing he had put that smile there, filling her up with pleasure. It was carnal for Lucius. Purely carnal with no emotion attached. Taking his wand in his long fingers, he pulled a piece of paper out of thin air, and wrote on it for the woman, leaving it on her night table beside her sleeping frame. With a whirl he was gone, with no goodbye to the girl who was leisurely dreaming of his strong, handsome face.

Upon awaking in the middle of the night, she rolled onto her back reaching for him, but finding him gone. She turned on a light beside her bed and looked around. There was absolutely no sign of him having been there, save a single piece of parchment folded up on the table beside her. She grabbed at it greedily, longing for any symbol of the phantom man who had come in and out of her life so quickly.

_Eve, _

_Thanks for the lovely lay._

_Maybe if you're a good girl I'll see you again when I'm lonely. _

_Lucius_

IIII

He walked in the night, feeling the gentle, chilly breeze at his back. His hair flowed about him, loosely. The scent of the striking Eve still followed him and he appreciated it. It reminded him of the pleasure she had given him and he was thoroughly ready for a long rest in his own bed. He had picked her up in the pub he and Bella had haunted that night. She had been serving drinks to men who flirted with her, grabbing her ass, waiting to take her home. Yet he smirked at the idea than none took her home that night, but himself. None felt that soft body beneath them, save himself. He liked being the victor in a game like that one.

He walked down a dark alley, planning to apparate into the darkness and warmth of Malfoy Manor. Noticing quickly he wasn't alone, he hid along the side of the building watching the two people cling to each other, obviously kissing. He held in a chuckle as he noticed they didn't even come up for air. This man had no finesse, no talent for charming a woman, though, he noticed, she did not seem to be complaining. Finally they broke away from each other, yet still holding each other close.

"When can I see you again?" Lucius heard the young man asking. Again, not knowing how to woo this woman. With time he would learn that a man should not ask a woman when they would meet again, but hold the power, telling her when they would meet again, or keep her waiting until he was ready to allow her in his presence again. How stupid this young man was, Lucius though, giving this girl the control.

"Oh I don't know, Sean. We've seen each other already three times this week." Lucius could hear the giddiness in the girls voice, an obvious sign of adoration. It would be so easy for the boy to take domination over a girl such as this one.

"Oh please, Hermione? I was thinking we could see a play tomorrow night. It is Friday night." Lucius paused, more full of intrigue than before now that he had heard that name. Hermione was it? Now this was fate, playing her into his hand. He walked out from behind his corner into view and made a bit of noise, so that both Hermione and the boy called Sean looked up at his entrance.

"Yes, Miss Granger, I'm sure you would find a play absolutely charming, would you not?" He smirked as her face lost the calmness and gaiety that she had held while being previously entranced with their conversation.

"Who is that? How do you know my name?" Her voice was shrill and she seemed scared. He saw her reach for something and knew it to be her wand. She pointed it at him. "_lumos!_"She said. He allowed her brown eyes to roll over his face, her face showing clearly that she now recognized him. "Lucius Malfoy?"

"Well aren't you astute my little mudblood." His voice was milky and charming, but it fooled her little.

"I'm not your little anything, and do not call me that! If you take one step closer, I'll alert the ministry and you'll be back in Azkaban faster than you can get to me from there." Filled up with anger, she was stronger.

"Oh now, Granger, is that a way to greet an old friend? And you not even introducing me to your paramour." He took a step closer and the boy pulled Hermione tighter to him.

"Come on Hermione, let's just go." Sean said, his voice full of trepidation.

"Sean, hush! Let me handle this." She pointed her wand a little more fiercely.

"Oh don't worry, I'll be leaving your gracious presence now." Lucius bowed gallantly, almost comically in his obvious mocking of her. "Until we meet again, Granger."


	3. A Chilly Warmth

Chapter Three: A Chilly Warmth

There is a point in everyone's life, when they began to wonder where it is all leading. The fun they have is no longer enjoyable. The food no longer tastes exactly so savory as before. A loneliness creeps in and you cannot comprehend why. It is not a pain that grows in your heart and mind. It is rather a lack of pain, a lack of feeling all over. You might stub your toe, and it hurts, but not enough to make you cry out. Physical pain is part of life. Your husband looks at you, across the long dining room table, but he does not really see you. He sees a shell of what you used to be… only he doesn't't notice that you are merely a shell.

This was such a point for Narcissa. She looked across the dark onyx stone table, long and angular, and saw Lucius, hair long and white as ever, eyes as blue as a stormy sea. He cuts his meat in slow strokes, hardly making any noise against the fine, expensive china. The silence overwhelms her, but he doesn't't notice. He hardly looks up.

Narcissa finished, waiting for Lucius, folded her linen napkin repeatedly in her lap, again and again, following the crease of the iron. Finally, looking up, she sees that he is watching her, wine goblet to his lips in a smirk that stirs her blood. He had already had quite a bit to drink, his eyes, though calm and steady, showed his carelessness.

"Fuck the napkin, Sissy." He gulps down the rest of the wine in his crystal glass and then setting it down hard, cracking the stem. Narcissa, sensing this would happen, already had taken her wand from the side of her plate, pointing and repairing the crack without a word. She sees the hard look in his eyes, as he watches her. Narcissa knows that tonight will not be pleasant.

She takes the folded napkin from her lap, placing it gently on the table top. Rising she gives him one brief nod before beginning out of the dining room. Once she reaches the door she turns and locks eyes with Lucius, who has been watching her move, a hunger in his eyes, as if he had not just enjoyed a meal so perfectly prepared.

"Oh, by the way, I believe your sister will be joining us this evening," Lucius says, almost cattily, enjoying the way her eyes enlarge slightly before returning to her normal calm self.

IIII

Leaning over, she grabbed the bottle of brandy and poured another glass for herself. She ungracefully wandered over to him, leaning over his shoulder where he sat watching the fireplace.

"She's watching us, you know," She whispered into his right ear, enjoying the scent of his skin so close to her nose, "From the staircase…"

"And what do you suggest? Would you like to give her a show?" Lucius asked, knowing full well the show Bella would most enjoy.

"Oh you're a cad, Lucius!" Bellatrix cackled, enjoying the warmth the fire provided as the brandy burned its passageway down her throat. She settled into a chair, black and hot from sitting so close to the flames. "You know-" She began.

"Shh… shhh… shhh. I believe our lady is heading back." Lucius held his index finger to his lips as he watched Bella's face. She seemed pleased, as if she personally led Narcissa to run away. It was Narcissa's own foolishness and pride that kept her upstairs.

"Do you know who I spoke with that night we were at the pub?" Lucius started, as he arose and went to the far table to occupy himself away from Bella's prying eyes.

"A blonde? No.. no… you'you have had too many blondes. You tire easily of them. Perhaps a fiery redhead? You need a little gumption to break down and control." Lucius laughed at Bella. She knew him well, yet because she did, he strove often to surprise her.

"No. It was a brunette… but that was not what I was referring to. Remember we saw the mudblood, Granger?"

"Oh yes, your boy's old school 'chum' I believe," Bella laughed at her own wittiness.

"Yes, I ran into her again, snogging in an alleyway with a rather dopey looking boy." Bellatrix looked up laughingly.

"So the mudblood can get a date? Oh! That is rich! What did you do? I mean you couldn't exactly hex her or torture her physically… but really, you must have done something terrible," she said, yawning in the coziness of the evening.

"Well then, there wasn't much I could do really. I teased her a bit… made her feel inferior." He gulped down a burning lump of liquor, remembering the way her face had been so soft, almost dreamy when nestled in the neck of that silly boy. He then recalled how it had turned hard as stone at the sight of him; he recalled how her voice had risen, shaky and fearful, but confident in her own protection. Realizing he had been pondering the versatility of the mudblood's face he took another gulp of the brandy, shutting out everything but the slow burn and the warmth it brought to his chest. He turned and looked at Bellatrix. She still sat in that same black chair, reclining beside the fire, warm and unaware. Her glass was empty and resting in the crook of her arm. Lucius' eyes roamed to her dark face. Her midnight black hair swirled around her face as she slept, falling asleep with the cordiality of the liquor to comfort her to peacefulness. He mused over the fact that she was quite agreeable to look at when she slept, fore the hardness and strength of her face disappeared when she was perfectly relaxed in her slumber. He placed his glass, empty, on the sideboard. With one last look at the sleeping woman, he pulled out his wand and apparated.

With the sound of an abrupt pop, Bellatrix sat up, quite astonished, knocking her glass to the floor and watching it shatter. She looked about the room, knowing—sensing she was totally alone. He had vanished to somewhere she did not know. He had left her to go delight in some trollop. Bellatrix collapsed back on to the chair, her face hardening significantly in mere seconds. The absolution of her loneliness engulfed her.

IIII

The pot of tea was brewing on the stove. She fiddled with the burners and placed a pot full of some savory liquid on beside the kettle. The fireplace in the small cottage burned bright, bringing a tinge of golden light to the simple home. Watching from the darkened window, curtained with the blue lace that seemed oddly uncharacteristic to her non-frilly nature, Lucius saw the simplicity of her life. She had no great library or a dining room that could easily seat a party of thirty. She had nothing but these few rooms and she seemed content. How odd that one would not strive for so much more. The mudblood made him curious. Her nature was so honest and forthright.

He stumbled against a bush and realized he was moving slowly toward being quite drunk. The desire to grow quite drunker rose over him as he grasped at the fact that he stood watching the mudblood Granger at her cottage window.

He strode along until he came to the familiar road where the pub he often haunted came into view. With the feeling of a thirst burning in his dry throat he sauntered a little more pleased with where he had led himself.

He opened the door to the pub, eyeing the slow crowd. He strolled to his usual booth, a place that was quite in the center of things, where he might observe and watch as much as he pleased without being bothered too much. He held up his index finger to the barkeep. Settling into his chair he removed his cape and draped it onto the opposite chair.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes, Lucius."

He looked up at the sound of that charming voice, full of warmth and affection. She looked more delectable than normal, her black hair messy in the commotion of the bar. She handed him his drink, firewhiskey—his usual, and waited for him to say something. Of course, he did not. He let his icy eyes be warmed with the sight of her. Her hazel eyes glowed with the excitement of being under his gaze, feeling his wafting stare roll over her body.

"Is your bed warm?" Lucius asked, watching her eyes widen with dreaminess.

"Oh, love, my bed has not been warm since you left it," Eve answered, flirting.

"It will be warm tonight then." Lucius sipped his drink, enjoying the way her bottom waved to and fro as she walked away, seductively, back to the bar.


	4. Sleep of the Damned

Chapter Four: Sleep of the Damned

"When will I see you again?" Her eyes were round and soft, full of need and emotion. He looked away. When they become needy, the game is no longer fun.

"I don't know. I am married you know," Lucius said cuttingly, attempting to make it sound like an excuse but really enjoying the pain he knew it caused her to hear.

"I know," Eve whispered defensively.

"Thanks for the hour or so." He looked at her slim body, warm and smooth under the sheets of her queen-sized bed in her tiny, hardly furnished flat. She lay quite comfortably, holding her head up with her right hand, looking at him longingly. He rolled his eyes and stuck his left hand into his pocket, pulling out spare coins. He looked at them in his palm before flinging them onto the bed-side table. "Here are a few galleons. Why don't you buy some nice sheets for the next time I'm here." He noticed her round, hazel eyes travel to the coins and the look of disgust that stretched across her pale face. He smirked. That brought the bite back into her, he thought, pleased. "Thanks again, love."

He walked gracefully into the cold night air, enjoying the feel of the slight breeze against his hot face. He found a lonely walkway and pulled out his wand, apparating back to the front of Malfoy Manor. He was really quite fond of his lovely home. He was proud to own something to old and distinguished; knowing others out there had little to nothing to call their own.

He walked up the drive, opening the front door just in time to see a light flicker off upstairs. So she'd been waiting up, he thought, amused at her strange habits. He removed his cloak and hung it up in the downstairs closet before marching to the sitting room to check on Bellatrix. In the moonlight drifting in from the windows, and the dying embers of the fire, he noticed that she had gone. No longer lying on the black chair in the cozy spot beside the fire, he realized she must have awoken to find him gone and let herself out. He grabbed the bottle of bourbon on the sideboard and sloshed some messily into a glass. He shot it down his throat, feeling its burn.

The house was silent. No movement from the upper floors, though he could hear some quiet shuffling in the lower quarters, probably the house elves he assumed. His eyes were tired, his limbs sore and exhausted. Slowly he made his way toward the staircase to head to bed. Once he reached his room he looked across the hall to the room the Narcissa occupied by herself. The light was off, and he knew that if he tried to open the door he would find it locked tight with some spell or another.

He opened his own door and saw his familiar four-poster bed with sheets soft to the touch. The far window was open, the black curtains billowing in the breeze, letting in the cool night air. He waved his wand, nonchalantly, whisking the window shut. He could feel the immediate warmth as he lit a fire in the stone fireplace. Somehow, moments later he found himself stripped and between the sheets, eyes fastened shut in mock sleep, yet his mind would not slow down.  
He thought of Eve and how he might keep her around for a bit longer. An excellent lay, but on the other side she had too many _emotions._ This led him to think of the perfect woman (the most beautiful he could imagine), with a mix of features. Soft, dewy, and most importantly, young skin that felt like silk to the touch under his open palm. Her eyes, no matter the color, would not hold the look of vacancy so many of his conquests so often did. She would be thin, with dramatic curves from breast to hip, but not muscular. She would, ultimately, he thought, be _soft_ with a bite that could be poisonous if too much was consumed. Bloody Christ, he thought, the little one better know her own mind.

He smiled in the darkness to himself. He heard the fire licking hungrily at the wood and felt comforted. He rolled onto his side, facing the stone fireplace and felt the hot thick air warm his face.

Slowly, in the quiet of Malfoy Manor, he drifted off to sleep. The sleep of those who had nothing at all to possibly worry themselves over cocooned him.

Typically he did not dream. Typically he couldn't summon enough imagination, even subconsciously, to dream. But tonight it was all different. His mind was working furiously, at breakneck speed, collecting random thoughts, images and forming them into quite a little nightmare that would make little to no sense upon awakening.

He dreamt of the pub that he had met Eve in. Eve was perched on his lap, spilling a bourbon down his front. She giggled obnoxiously in that obvious girl way. He pushed her to the floor. She looked up at him, hazel eyes burning. He kept eye contact with her, unmoving. Suddenly there was a silence that befell the smoky, dimly lit, typically loud bar and Lucius looked up. In walked the mudblood, Granger, on the arm of a man, tall, muscular, brunette. This was not the same boy she had kissed in the alleyway. They both seemed sure of themselves, blatantly ignoring the quiet that dropped the minute they walked in.

She walked to the bar, her hair wild, her eyes smiling but her face straight. She stood at the bar, waiting for the bartender to glance her way. She stood tall, would not budge, drumming her nails on the top. The man she can in with did not look so damn sure of himself. He looked frightened. He was not a wizard.

"Hey!" Lucius heard her call. "Hey, two whiskey sours… please," she tagged on to the end. Her voice didn't waver. The barkeep slid them down to her. She left a galleon on the bar, grabbed the drinks and walked away. She started for a table in the corner.

Lucius looked down. Eve was still sitting on the floor at his feet. Within seconds the noise level was back to normal. The patrons went back to their lagers and brews. They almost forgot she had walked in. Lucius had another bourbon in his hand. This one didn't end up down his front. He noticed Eve walk by.

"Hey waitress!" He heard coming from the dark corner where Granger hid. Eve walked by her table not bothering to stop. "Excuse me, _dear_," Hermione said. Even didn't even look back. Lucius walked up to the bar himself.

"Two whiskey sours, Eve," Lucius demanded. The woman poured the drinks. "Take 'em to the corner table. She looked like she was about to object but quickly thought better of it. She placed them on a tray and briskly walked away.

He had no idea why he did it. He watched Granger take the drinks with a smirk before whipping half of it down her throat in one gulp. She then stood and took the hand of the man she was with. They slinked over to the far corner and began dancing to the slow bet playing out of the speakers.

"Excuse me," it was Eve this time, marching to the mudblood. "There is no dancing."

"Are you kidding me?" Hermione said, "No damn DANCING?"

"We wouldn't want anyone to get hurt," Eve said, smirking almost evilly.

"What does that mean?" Granger sized her up. Taking in Eve's striking stature. "Are you threatening me?"

Without another word they were at each others throats. Pulling, punching viciously. The man with Hermione just stood and watched. Bloody Hell, he was a dumb lug. The barkeep ran around the bar to the fight and began pulling at Eve, yanking her away. Lucius himself lunged at Hermione throwing one arm around her waist and gripping her shoulder with his free hand. Her skin was hot, but the smoothest skin he'd ever had beneath his open palm.

She whipped her head around, her brown hair flowing. She looked at him wide, straight in the eye, her brown eyes were alight with anger, flaming.

He woke up suddenly, sweating. Breaking heavily, the image of her fiery maple eyes intoxicated his mind. He quickly took his wand from the bedside table and extinguished the last of the burning embers in the fireplace with his wand before attempting to return to sleep. The image of her fighting, dancing, walking attacked his mind. The feel of his skin was still hot on his hand. He wondered if such a lowly creature could ever really behave in such a brash way. He thought not.


	5. Deception Dance

Chapter Five: Deception Dance

"Damn it, Bellatrix, I said no." He glared at her warm, smiling face. "Maybe you should just leave."

"Oh, bugger off Lucius. Did you and that whore have an itty bitty squabble?" Bella fixed her eyes on him, black and hard. She sized him up, drinking him in. Attempting to be strong, under his anger. She knew that if she held her own against him, showed him she wasn't weak… like her sister… Her mind drifted away.

"You just don't know when to stop do you?" Lucius lowered his voice and reached for his wand. "If you want to go drink yourself silly at that waste of a pub be my guest. I on the other hand, will probably never step foot in that trash heap again."

Bella began laughing in that evil way. That way that had always appealed to Lucius before. She threw her head back. Her voice rising two octaves. "You did have a fight, didn't you?" She shrieked with laughter. "That dark haired Eve. How rich! Did she break your wee, black heart?" Her laughter grew. She locked eyes with him. His blue ones swam as he stepped close to her, breathing heavily. Her black ones stayed gleeful. Lucius lost his calm demeanor and leapt at her, striking her face with his open palm. He knew he had hit her hard. His right hand was burning. She looked up at him, silent, her black eyes burning with pain and embarrassment. Lucius turned his back on her to find Narcissa watching the scene. She walked past him, to her sister as he walked out, heading outside into the bitter cold.

He just had to lose it like that. It wasn't like him. But he smirked as he remembered the look in her eyes. The little bitch deserved it and likely wasn't going to forget it. He tried to back track in his mind. He walked in the dark, feeling the icy wind whip at his long hair wildly. He'd forgotten a cloak in his anxiety to escape that volatile situation. He pulled his shirt tighter around his large frame, wrapping his arms around himself. He didn't understand it. Lucius Malfoy didn't lose control. Lucius Malfoy _was_ control. He just kept walking letting his anger over the situation wane and ebb while his anger at himself only rose. It was all that damn dream. Just because it took place in that horrid bar didn't mean it was true. Didn't mean he was fantasizing over the damn mudblood. He just kept walking and thinking, not realizing that his feet led him right to the exact place he didn't want to be.

He saw the dimly lit tavern not fifty feet in front of him. He turned his back on it kicking himself mentally. What a bloody strange mental Freudian slip, he thought. He felt the cold chills run up and down his spine, and decided not to waste his magic but to go in regardless. He felt an odd pulling sensation in his belly, and turned back to face the bar once more.

"Bloody bugger," Lucius whispered as he walked in.

A draft of refreshing heat hit him as he swung open the door. It smelt rather stale but warm none the less. It was as it always was. Not too full. Not too empty. A bit on the noisy side with the faint scent of cigarette smoke surrounding him. He sat down alone at a table, feeling sure that any moment Eve would be near him with a drink.

Like lightning she was leaning down over his shoulder, placing a glass of whiskey down in front of him.

"I bought new sheets, love. You should feel them. Five hundred count Egyptian cotton." Lucius grunted as her low, growling voice purred into his ear. He took the drink in his hand, without a word to her, and put the glass to his lips. He didn't drink. The oddest feeling of déjà vu enveloped him and he felt a strong pull to leave suddenly. His left arm shot out and grabbed Eve's hand as she was walking away.

"New sheets? Let's get out of here." Her eyes narrowed at him. She detected the slight plea in his voice, the fact that it wasn't a demand. Something was off. She felt hesitant to stay near him. She knew the power he typically had, and she also knew that Lucius Malfoy didn't plead for anything, let alone a warm body. Something wasn't right.

"My shift doesn't end for anther hour, wait around for me. I'll make it worth your while." Eve winked at him. She turned her back on him and headed back toward the bar, mentally reminding herself to check on him every once in a while. She didn't know what was going to happen but whatever it was, Lucius would be the cause.

Lucius took the glass in his hand again. Full as it was, he didn't feel the need to drink it. His head already danced in an alcoholic haze, though no alcohol had passed his lips. He took in his surroundings. Near his right he could see the flash that was Eve, that thin, tall, dark Amazon walking between tables, taking tips for shaking her ass and blowing kisses. For a barmaid she was quite successful. Lucius could sense about her that she was willing to do whatever she had to survive.

"Lucius, you haven't even touched your drink!" Eve exclaimed as she stood in front of him with a new, full glass on her tray.

"Hey beautiful! I need a refill." Eve turned, her hair flying wildly to be confronted by a man holding an empty glass. The glass she held steadily on her own tray, fell, unbalanced, behind her, right down Lucius' front. Eve gasped.

"Lucius! I am so sorry. Here, let me clean that up for you." She began to dab at his shirt, patting it with the rag she kept in her apron pocket.

"Damn it Eve." He looked over her shoulder and glared at the drunk leering down her blouse from over her shoulder. Lucius stood and walked towards the men's washroom, fingering the wand hidden in his pocket.


	6. Sweaty Palms and Glass Shards

Chapter Six: Sweaty Palms and Glass Shards

Chapter Six: Sweaty Palms and Glass Shards

He pointed the wand at himself, cleaning up the sopping, cold whiskey. The eyes of that drunken bastard seemed to be glaring back at him in the washroom mirror. Lucius glared back. He had better gain control before he returned out there, he thought. Damn it all, maybe he should just leave. Eve wasn't worth the wait and surely Bellatrix and Narcissa were sleeping by now. He could just go home and get some rest. That was probably the best idea he'd had all night. He adjusted his shirt, making sure all signs of the whiskey had been erased before walking out into the main room.

He walked to the front door and pulled it open, turning his head momentarily to make eye contact with Eve. She stood with a full tray of drinks balanced on her hand and shoulder and gave him a smile and a wink. Lucius smirked back before backing through the open door.

"Ow!" Someone squealed near Lucius. He turned rapidly to see a small brunette girl bouncing on one foot.

"Terribly sorry," Lucius said looking at the man-boy rather- she was with. He was so familiar. His eyes trailed down to the bouncing brunette once again. She stood wide-eyed, a little alarmed, looking right at him.

"Come on Sean, let's go somewhere else…" Hermione Granger pulled at the arm of the man standing beside her.

"Really Hermione, you're being silly." The boy named Sean took a firm grip on her hand. "Excuse me sir, can we get by you?" He asked Lucius. He looked down at Hermione and smiled.

"You really should watch where you're going," he said as Hermione whizzed by him, glaring. He moved out of the way and watched Sean pull her into the pub. Déjà vu returned, stronger than ever. That oddness in his belly pulled him back in, compelled him to sit at a table and be able to observe. Eve came over to him, her wide hazel eyes looking quite confused her tray held low on her hip.

"Now handsome, not two minutes before I thought you'd gone and abandoned me. Had a slight change of heart?" Lucius didn't respond. He, rather, just sat there staring at her. He suddenly was upset and didn't want to hear the yammering of a woman.

"Just bring me a drink, Eve," Lucius snapped.

"What kind, love?" She asked, looking quite offended.

"Surprise me, I don't bloody care." Lucius waved his hand at her as if he was waving away a servant. She walked away, anger written plainly on her face. Once she was out of his line sight, he could focus once more on Hermione who sat on the opposite side of the bar next to her boyfriend. She looked rather uncomfortable and awkward. It was as if she felt her little personage would be swallowed up in such a place.

Lucius himself nursed the drink Eve had finally delivered attempting to remember that dream of horror just a few nights before. The only problem was that after he'd woken up sweating, he'd pushed it to the back of his mind and since forgotten he'd had it at all until the strange coincidences of tonight. Unfortunately the only thing that was jogging his memory way Granger's face and she just happened to have her back to him.

She would begin to speak every time Eve walked by, but found it hard to grab her attention. Finally the male barkeep returned and poured Hermione something rather fruity looking. Lucius' mouth was dry. He cleared his throat loudly, causing Hermione and her date to turn his way. He grabbed the glass of brandy Eve had brought him and took a large, stinging gulp.

He locked eyes with Hermione over his glass, smiled his typically wicked way and raised his glass to her in mock toast. She grunted, so obviously displeased and quickly turned her back on him.

Eve stood by, watching solemnly, wondering who in the hell this mousy brunette might be that had pulled his attention away. She walked directly in Lucius' line of view and shimmied a little shake before walking to her next table.

IIII

"No, Sean. No!" Hermione looked like she was struggling against the young lad. "I do not want to dance. Stop. You've had way too much to drink." She looked around wild-eyed, praying that no one was looking their way. Of course she caught Lucius' attention immediately.

"Damn it all, Hermione. It's just a bloody dance. Now stop causing a scene and let's go." Sean shoved her toward the dance floor.

Lucius watched the lovers' quarrel and wondered why in the world Granger didn't stand up to the spineless youth. Really, he had always known her to be a bit stronger before. He watched her awkwardly plant her feet in a side shuffle, attempting a slow swaying, while Sean began to gyrate wildly. What a ridiculous man he was!

"Excuse me, Sir? Miss?" Eve began walking their way with her tray held in her hand tightly. "I can't allow you to dance in here. The tables are too close together. You could hurt someone." Sean froze and looked Eve.

"Hurt someone? Are you joking?" He asked. Eve looked from Sean to Hermione and then looked over her shoulder to look at Lucius who seemed rather pleased with himself while watching the scene.

"I'm not kidding. Please, just go back to the bar and grab another drink." She moved to walk away.

"No, waitress, sorry." Sean began to dance again, while Hermione stood there, looking from Sean to Eve. Probably wondering what the hell she'd gotten herself into by stepping out that night.

"Miss, you might want to get a little control over your boyfriend. He really needs to stop," Eve began cattily, looking at Hermione.

"I'm trying, thank you very much." Hermione put her hand on Sean's back. He was obviously drunk by this time, and waving his arms around wildly. He turned to Hermione and began spinning her around. She lost her footing fell backward into Eve who had gathered a tableful of glasses onto her tray. Eve, unexpecting such a shove, dropped the tray. Glass shattered around her. Lucius jumped to his feet, attempting to get a bit closer to the scene. Right as he was about to reach Eve and the pile of broken glass shards she lunged at Hermione.

"Get out of the damn way," Screamed the barkeep as she ran around the bar and grabbed Eve around the waist, pulling her off a grunting Hermione. Lucius reached around and wrapped an arm around Hermione who began wailing on Eve as she was dragged away. Sean stood idly by wondering how the hell things had escalated to that point.

"Mr. Malfoy, please, get your disgusting hands off of me!"


	7. Coldhearted in the Cold Snow

Chapter Seven: Cold-hearted in the Cold Snow

Chapter Seven: Cold-hearted in the Cold Snow

He felt the soft, slight frizz of hair tickling his chin. He dropped her without another thought. He looked down at her, sprawled on the floor, attempting to pull herself up and avoid any of the broken shards of glass near her palms.

"Thank you so much," Hermione said sarcastically, dusting her hands off on her long, dark jeans that Lucius just happened to notice elongated her legs.

"You were the one so anxious to get away Ms. Granger," Lucius sneered down at her. Sean began to inch his way toward Hermione but stopped short as the barkeep stepped into the middle of the scene.

"Now, now…" He began, walking around the four set in the middle of the scene. "I think I'm going to have to ask you two to leave," the bartender said, pointing to Sean and Hermione.

"Yes sir," Hermione began, grabbing Sean angrily by the hand and marching for the front door.

"Eve, I think you should leave for the night also." Eve locked eyes with her boss, obviously furious. Lucius cleared his throat. Her eyes, hazel and bright, flicked over him.

"Alright, I'll go. Come on Lucius, you were going to walk me home, no?" The fire in her eyes licked his body up and down and he knew that the passion that hadn't had a chance to explode yet surely would cover him the minute he'd gotten her alone. The night wouldn't be a complete waste after all.

"Sure Eve, lets get out of here," He signaled to the barkeep and took her by the elbow to exit the smoky bar. As they walked outside the cold air of winter hit him like a ton of bricks. Obviously, Eve was also freezing because she squeezed herself beneath his arm, snuggling for warmth. Lucius glared down at her. Normally he wouldn't allow such a blatant show of affection, but he was rather cold and her body felt good holding the wind off of him.

_"Get off me!" _

"What was that love?" Eve asked pulling closer beneath his arm.

"How in bloody hell would I know?" Lucius said, dropping his arm from her shoulder to her waist.

_"Uuuuughhhh!" _

_"You stop it, I said!" _

"Lucius, I think its coming from that snowed-in embankment. Something is not right. You should go check it out," Eve pleaded, adjusting her coat to pull it tighter while she looked over her shoulder into the darkness.

"No Eve. It is none of our business…" Lucius began just as a spark shot up from the snow bank into the sky. "You know maybe I will go check it out…" Lucius disentangled himself from Eve and started towards the empty field across the way from the pub. He took his wand out of his inner coat pocket and held it tight in his hand. He wasn't nervous. He'd accomplished much more terrifying things in his lifetime than stray sparks and a few screams and grunts. As he came toward the top of the hill, he readied himself for what might be lying on the other side.

"Lumos," he whispered, lighting his wand and pointing into the darkness. He heard quite a bit of shuffling before his wand finally enlightened the figure of Sean. He rose drunkenly and stumbled toward Lucius. Lucius trailed the wand light from Sean to the dark pile beside him not two feet away. Quickly it hit him that it must be Granger lying there. She'd been struggling against him when he stunned her with some sort of spell.

Lucius looked back to Sean who was slowly making his way up the embankment with his wand held out to Lucius as if he was going to hex him. Lucius laughed into the night as he waved his wand leisurely at Sean, causing him to fall backward tumbling down the hill.

"What's going on Lucius?" Eve asked, running towards him at the sudden thud Sean made, hitting the pile of snow. Her eyes drifted down to the pile that was Sean on the ground and then looked over noticing Hermione. She shivered a bit, clearly uncomfortable with the realness of the situation.

"Did you..?" She asked pointing to the bodies. Lucius shook his head.

"Just him… just stunned."

Eve took careful steps leading the way towards Hermione in the cold snow. Lucius followed her, curious himself to see the damage that stupid boy had done.

"I think she's all right, darling," She whispered kneeling at Granger's side feeling for a pulse.

"Good. Let's go then. Wouldn't want to stick around to see them wake up." Lucius said pulling at Eve's coat collar.

"We can't just leave her! She'll freeze to death!"

"Twenty minutes ago you were lunging at her throat!"

"I didn't want to kill her… and this isn't her fault… Sure, she chose to go out with that worthless thing over there, but the poor girl probably couldn't get any better. At least try to wake her up." Eve looked up at him pleadingly, her eyes bright and sad. He took out his wand and pointed it directly at Grangers, casting the spell to awaken from a stun. Nothing. She just lay there motionless.

"Try it again," She asked, adjusting her position so her knees weren't buried in the snow. Lucius tried again.

"That bastard must have hit her with something bloody hard," Lucius said stashing his wand back in his pocket. "There is nothing else we can do for her and we can't bloody hell wait for her here in the snow for her to wake up.

"No, you're absolutely right. We need to take her with us."

"Are you out of your bloody mind?"

"No I'm serious. What if he wakes up first and starts back at whatever he was after. And do you really want a girl left to die in the snow on your conscious?" She looked so serious. He didn't care really. He could leave her here to die for all he cared. But people at the pub had seen them together at the bar and Eve would talk for sure… and if she did die… He'd been trying to lay low. Damn it all- he took his wand out again and pointed it at Hermione. She began floating in the air, her brown hair dropping down beneath her.

"Lead the way," Lucius said gruffly.


	8. Lost

Chapter Eight: Lost

Chapter Eight: Lost

Her head was pounding. The thought of opening her eyes was absolutely abominable. Yet, she was hot. Her body was burning up and she could feel the beads of sweat pooling at her temples and dripping down her neck. She opened one eye, squinting into the dully-lit room. She was lying on a bed, with very soft sheets, she noted. She realized almost immediately that this was not her room or Sean's for that matter. She reached up and wiped her wet forehead before sitting up on the bed. When she was sitting upright she felt the full extent of her headache, the pain almost pushing her back down onto the pillows. She groaned in immediate pain.

"Well good morning sleepy-head."

"Sleepy-head?" Hermione turned instantly in the direction that the voice had come from. There sitting by an open window sat Lucius Malfoy. The wind blew his white hair slightly and small snowflakes floated in around him.

Hermione, astounded at awaking to the presence of a Malfoy struggled to get her bearings as she swung her legs off of the bed and began to stand up.

"Now, now love, I bet you have just a pounding headache! Lie down! I brought you some tea." Coming from behind a swinging door stood the bar-maiden who had attempted to strangle her the night before in the bar. She carried a pot of tea and a small cup and pushed it into Hermione's hands. She was confused. No where in her memory did she remember going anywhere with Lucius. Not only was she completely befuddled, a feeling of impending doom began to spread over her. Nothing good could come from this.

"Relax Granger. I didn't kidnap you or anything of that sort." Lucius fingered the window frame calmly while his blue-gray eyes looked right into her. Because she was tired and her whole body ached she flopped back down onto the bed. With the cup of tea in hand, she brought it to her lips, drinking thirstily.

"There you go, I have some pain relievers if you'd like. If I were in your position I'd be more than glad to take a whole bottle," Eve said, smiling at Hermione kindly.

"What in the world am I doing here with you two? What do you want from me?" Hermione asked hurriedly, fear soaking every word that emerged from her lips.

"Why would we want anything from you?" Lucius' voice was bitter and cold. This, of course, did not surprise Hermione, but it still did not explain why she was here.

"This is my apartment. We brought you here." Eve sat daintily in a chair by the roaring fire.

"That much I have figured out on my own." Hermione was gaining confidence and was struggling to wrap her mind around the situation.

"No need to get snippety. _She_ was only trying to help you, Granger," Lucius spat out, standing up and walking to a glass of brown liquid, most likely alcohol, sitting on the nightstand beside the bed.

"Trying to help me?"

"Yes! Don't you remember, darling?" Eve leaned forward in her chair, obviously enjoying the mystery of the situation.

"I think it is rather apparent that she doesn't remember, Eve." Lucius smiled at her before throwing his head back and swallowing the entire contents of the glass.

"That boyfriend of yours is one bad egg. When you were kicked out of the bar we left directly after you… Are you sure you don't remember this?" Eve stood quickly and walked to Hermione, taking the empty tea cup and refilling it for her.

"No, honestly, I have no idea what I'm doing here." Hermione took the proffered cup from Eve who smiled at her in a sickening sort of way. "Thank you."

"Well we heard you screaming from behind the snow bank. It sounded like you were struggling pretty badly." Eve adjusted her face so she no longer smiled, but looked appropriately somber. "Well, I sent Lucius over to see what was going on." She pointed at Lucius who had taken up his place at the open window once more. "And being the gentleman that he is, he stunned Sean after he'd seen what that bastard had done to you." Lucius scoffed at this. He was no gentleman. Hermione turned and looked at Lucius who sat looking away, attempting not to make eye contact. She knew that this version of the story was highly unlikely. This poor delusional girl probably asked Lucius to do all of that, not of his own free will. Hermione let what she had been told sink in.

"So why exactly am I here?"

"Well that's the best part, love! Lucius took out his wand and attempted to wake you, but that hex or whatever it was that your boyfriend used on you was pretty harsh, so he couldn't wake you. That's when I decided that we couldn't leave you in the snow, so we brought you back here!" Eve finished her story with quite a bit of enthusiasm but it still seemed so unreal for Hermione. Why on earth would Lucius help her of all people?

"Well that is very kind of you… really," Hermione added, not knowing what to say. "But I really should be going now. I don't want to impose on you any longer." She stood from her position on the bed and set the half-empty tea cup on the bedside table. "Thanks for everything I guess." Hermione directed this mostly at Eve, knowing that even if she did want to thank Lucius he probably wouldn't accept it from the likes of her.

"No really, it was nothing. Are you sure you're feeling up to it?"

"Believe me; I think I should probably be going."

"Lucius could walk you. Couldn't you do that, Lucius?"

"No!" Both Lucius and Hermione shouted at the same time. As childish as things could get at that point Hermione giggled, slightly embarrassed at her outburst. "Really," she said, "I am fine now. Goodbye and thank you." Hermione said as she opened what she could summon was the front door.

"Bye!" Eve called. Of course, Lucius said nothing. The moment was awkward for all involved and Hermione couldn't wait to be out the door. As it closed behind her, she breathed in the cold winter air. She checked her wristwatch and noticed that it was nearly five o'clock in the morning. The sun would be rising soon. Probably on her long walk home. She walked a bit on the road she was on, trying to gain her directional bearings before she found a dark alley. Hermione walked into it, a bit hesitant after the experience she had had the night before. She pulled out her wand and apparated home.

IIII

"Are you happy now, Eve?"

"Quite, thanks for asking." She relaxed on her own bed and stretched luxuriously. "Do you want to join me now that we have the bed to ourselves?"

"Are you bloody joking Eve?" Lucius stood and closed the open window. "It's almost daybreak and I had better be going home to my wife. Thanks for a memorable night." Lucius joked as he walked to the front door and swung it open. "Next time Eve, no good deeds for the community, alright? I don't want to be stuck waiting up all night instead of getting what I came for." Eve smiled into the pillow as Lucius walked out the open door. She unzipped her pants and removed them before crawling under the covers and going to sleep.

IIII

Lucius walked home. He could apparate if he wanted to of course, but he dreaded going back to Malfoy Manor and spending another dull day doing absolutely nothing of worth. Decidedly, he wandered around London instead. The sun was rising in the East and he was growing warmer the more he walked and his body got used to the cold air. He didn't know where exactly he was heading but it was in the general direction of the Manor and he wasn't in any particular hurry.

What a waste of a night, he thought. He not only had fought with Bella and Sissy but had wasted a whole night with Eve doing nothing but watching that silly mudblood sleep. And what would that creature think of him now? He had _saved_ her. Of course, he technically had to if he didn't want to be shipped off on the first boat to Azkaban again. But of course, she might think he had a kind heart! He had to put a stop to that. First things first, Lucius decided, show Granger how horrid he really could be… without the ministry getting word of course.

He found an abandoned field and quickly apparated to Granger's home. When he arrived he stood there in the snow looking at the small cottage that she lived in. She most likely had apparated home after leaving Eve's and was probably cozy warm in her bed by now. He walked up, stealthily to a small window on the side. This window over looked a small sitting room. Inside, he could see Hermione inside, sipping tea; a warm blanket swung over her legs and pulled up to her chest. She had her head leaning back on pillows, resting.

He thought to point his wand at her direct a spell at her from his hiding place. She would never know it was him. He withdrew his wand from his inside coat pocket and pointed it at her. He smirked to himself. It was almost too easy. Suddenly, Hermione's eyes opened hazily and looked right at the window. For an instant they made eye contact. His gray eyes locked on to her dark brown ones. She didn't move, but sat there, her body rather rigid, but still unafraid. He stood there, unable to move away, staring in at her, obviously imposing. No more than five seconds past like this, yet it seemed like so much longer to both involved. By the time Lucius realized what was happening he directed his wand at himself and apparated home.


	9. Wicked

Chapter 9: Wicked

"Lucius!" He smirked, his gray eyes rolling over her long, lithe body as he moved above her. That would not be the first time she screamed his name tonight, he'd make sure of that! He pushed harder, moving down and burying his head in the hollow between her neck and shoulder. Eve, wrapped her lean, tan arms around his shoulders, holding him in a tight embrace as he rocked her body back and forth beneath him. He grunted into her open mouth, suffocating another scream from her pouty lips as he rolled both of them over, positioning her on top.

Eve smiled down at him and raised her arms above her head, scooping up her luminous black hair as she rocked her hips slowly, torturously. Lucius ran his large, pale hands over her body, feeling every smooth bit of her. She moaned, pushing him onward. Please, don't stop she said with her big, bright eyes. She raised herself above him, rocking back and forth, her legs spread wide, caressing his chest as he pushed into her again and again.

As he felt the pressure building up inside of him he reached up and grabbed her breasts as she arched her back. She threw her head back and moaned, biting her lips all while continuing to sway her hips. Lucius locked his eyes onto her green ones, her smiling at him sleepily. She closed her eyes for the merest second, when he began to grunt again, coming inside of her. Her eyes shot open urging him on, when he noticed that her eyes were no longer green but the deepest brown. In a shock he rolled her off of him. She lay there, naked on the bed attempting to catch her breath. He rose from the bed abruptly.

"Is something the matter?" She was scared. He was fine one moment, and moving like a madman the next. Eve wondered if she'd ever know what was going on behind those blue eyes.

Lucius looked at her, his head cocked to the side, confusion crossing his face for the briefest of moments. Her eyes were most definitely green. But when he sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his brow he saw those dark brown eyes again, only not on Eve's face. He grabbed his things and left, not saying another word to Eve who sat perplexed for a good ten minutes before jumping in a hot shower to wash him off of her body.

IIII

She saw him when she entered. She stood there in the entry way wondering if she should be the bigger person and go about her life, or if she should back out slowly and hope that he hadn't yet noticed her.

"Well hello there love! Would you like a cold drink?" A cheery voice abruptly interrupted Hermione's thoughts. Eve stood in front of her, smiling pleasantly, making her wonder just how she could ever have thought that Eve was a bad person.

"Sure… what do you have on tap?" Hermione asked congenially. It was too late to back out now. She was in it, and she'd at least have a nice beer while she was here.

"Everything dear. I never would have taken you for a beer drinker."

"How can I live in Britain, be in my twenties and not drink it?" Hermione joked as she walked beside Eve to find a seat at the bar. She could feel his piercing stare pressing against her back the whole way. It took all of her self control to keep herself from turning and even more self control to keep her face relaxed and not blaringly red. Eve laughed at her joke as she filled a glass with the dark amber liquid.

"How're you feeling? You seem so much better since the last time I saw you!" Eve brushed her dark hair off her tan shoulder as she spoke, surveying the busy barroom to make sure she wasn't neglecting any other patrons.

"Oh, yes. Well the last time you saw me I had just been cursed. Since then I've lost the eleven stone of poor boyfriend." Hermione gulped down a bit of the bitter liquid. She liked talking to Eve. She was a nice woman, working for a living, and she'd been so nice to her. If only she couldn't feel the wicked presence of Malfoy somewhere behind her.

"I'll be right back. If you need anything Jack down there will be glad to help you." Eve moved out from behind the bar, her empty tray balancing on her hip as she went about clearing off tables and flirting with the gads of men there for more than the flowing tap, Hermione was sure. She smiled as she worked on her beer slowly, enjoying the environment. Noticing that he was rather focused on finishing his own, much stronger drink, Hermione braved the chance to take a look at him.

Lucius sat there at his own table, relaxed. His face was calm, but unpleasant all the same. His shoulders were wide and obviously strong, but they looked hard somehow. As if he was waiting for an enemy to attack, never quite laid-back enough. Hermione snorted into her drink as she found the irony of her and Lucius in the same bar after years of wishing the other dead. But with the new ministry intact peace, love and harmony was in full swing along with loving thy neighbor and all that jazz. If it was seven years ago he'd hex her into oblivion and enjoy every moment of it. Bastard, she thought. She finished the rest of her beer calmly, while she fished in her small hand bag for some cash to throw on the bar for Eve.

Hermione rose from the bar just Eve sauntered back to her.

"Leaving already?"

"Yeah, yeah… I just wanted to come in and thank you for all your help."

"It was nothing darling. Make sure you take care of yourself, and don't be a stranger!" Eve said amicably as she eased behind the bar. Hermione smiled at her over her shoulder. A nice girl, Hermione decided. She walked out of the bar quickly hoping not to draw any unwanted attention to herself.

IIII

He got up from the table as he saw her leave. He dropped a few galleons on the wood for Eve to come and pick up before he strolled out. Well not quite strolled, he was quite in the drink at that point, feeling it most as he floated along in his head. He hadn't realized he'd had that much until he stood up. Damn bar. Damn Eve. None of this would have happened if he didn't find her such a good, easy lay! He followed her. He could just make out her dark, bushy hair in the distance making her way slowly into town. Granger made her way into an abandoned alley and Lucius knew it was now or never, soon she would have apparated herself out of the area, back to her cozy little cottage.

"And where are you off to Mudblood?"

She whipped around in shock at his sudden approach. His words were slurred in an odd un-Malfoyish way and she felt the fear beat into her heart.

"What do you want?" She croaked out, finding herself alone in an alley with maybe the one living man who still wanted her dead.

"What a way to greet a friend, Mudblood," Lucius said as he walked slowly toward her. With every step he took to her she took two steps back.

"Blow off Malfoy. And don't call me a _mudblood_."

"But that's what you are, Mudblood. Why wouldn't I call you that?" He steadied himself against a black garbage bin as she backed herself against a wall.

"Seriously, its over. Get over it already." Hermione, found the courage to stand up taller as she realized just how drunk he really was. He took another step toward her and she found herself backed against a grimy wall. "Stop! You know that if you touch me the ministry will be on you in a second and you'll get a one-way ticket back to Azkaban." She gripped her wand in her coat pocket, too afraid to withdraw it, knowing that by the time she got it out he'd have already hexed her.

"Now, now, I just fancied a friendly chat. No need to get angry, Mudblood." He stepped up to her, now no more than a foot away from her. "You wouldn't want to get yourself into any unwanted trouble, would you?"

"Just tell me what you want." She knew it was hopeless but she fought the oncoming tears back in her throat, as they burned their way up.

"I told you what I wanted," Lucius whispered. "Look at those eyes of yours… are you frightened Mudblood? What color would you call those eyes?"

"They're… they're brown Malfoy."

"Just brown, eh? I think they have a bit of amber in them, myself, and since I'm the one looking at them, I think you'll just have to take my word for it." His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper as he closed in the distance between them. She gulped in a deep breath, pushing her back further against the wall. "No where to run Mudblood, you can't just _sink_ into the wall. You're stuck you know.."

"Please, go away." She hated herself for not being able to keep that quiver out of her voice.

"Don't worry. I won't hurt you." He brushed a lock of her hair out of her face and she sucked in her breath, obviously afraid. He could smell the beer she had just drank on her breath. "You saw me outside your house the other night, didn't you Mudblood?"

"Y…Yes." She could find no other words. No point in denying it either, when they both knew they had made eye contract. Malfoy leaned in closer and pushed his body up against hers. She immediately froze against the wall, whimpering, wishing she could die instantly rather than this prolonged torture. He let out a laugh, just a few dark, deep notes, his lips spread in an almost maniacal smile before he pressed his mouth against hers.

She sobbed in fear and confusion as he pried her mouth open with his own lips and tongue. It seemed to go on forever for both. Lips, bodies pressed against each other. She was frozen her place, letting him carry on in fear. She mentally chastised herself for being such a weak fool when he pulled away. His face was flaming with anger. His gray eyes ready to burst with the hatred that flamed in them, he no longer appeared drunk but quite sober. He removed his wand from his robes before she could whimper and pointed it at her.

"You dare to kiss me Mudblood?" His face was suddenly full of color, straight from the neck of his robes all the way to the roots of his white, blonde hair.

"I… you… it wasn't…" She began to cry in weak explanation. Hermione reached her own hand into her coat and began struggling with her wand. When she looked up again into Lucius' face, she struggled to comprehend what he would do next. Suddenly he was calm and unemotional.

"_Obliviate_!" He said, forcing the word from his lips in disgust.

Hermione's eyes were forced closed in fear. When she opened them again she stood in an alley, late at night, her wand held before her, unsure of how she got there and where she had been. She was completely alone.


	10. Under the Cover of Night

Chapter 10: Under the Cover of Night

Mudblood.

Damn mudblood.

She had enticed him. He could not be blamed for it. His head continued to swim in the darkness as he walked up the front steps of Malfoy Manor. Luckily she would never remember and he would think it was a delusional dream after the amount of alcohol he'd consumed. He swung open the front door and removed his cloak and left it on the rack near the entrance.

"Home so soon?" The sarcasm dripped from her dark lips as she swayed in front of him, leaning against the sitting room door frame.

"Go home," Lucius barked. Stumbling, he cleared his throat loudly as he headed for the main staircase.

"Jesus, you'll never make it up those stairs." She put down the green lap blanket that she had been keeping warm with in the other room. "Should I call Narcissa, have her come down here and help you up?" Lucius turned to Bellatrix in his drunken haze, angry.

"You may be my wife's sister but that will not stop me from bodily removing you from my property. I said 'go home', didn't I?" Her cackle of insolence was enough to set him going for her. She backed into the sitting room as he moved rather lightly for a drunk man.

"I doubt you could do anything to me in this position. You're pathetic." She paused by the sidebar and poured two fingers of scotch into two glasses. "Here, more alcohol is exactly what you need." Bella handed him the glass and took a swig from her own. Lucius sat in the large arm chair by the fire place and placed the glass on the table beside him. "I decided to wait around for you tonight. See how you were after a visit to that trash bin of pub you seem to favor."

"Oh dear sister, why do you care what I do?" Grabbing a sofa pillow, he adjusted it behind his aching head.

"Perhaps I've gained a conscience, Lucius." They both laughed at this, her shrill giggle slipping from between her wide, dark lips. "You were with that ridiculous barmaid again, weren't you?"

"What does it matter?" His entire body was sore from his head down his spine and his head was swimming with alcohol and images of his mouth pressed against the mudblood's. He had other things to do than bicker with Bellatrix.

"You're married to my dear sister. It matters very much to her, I'm sure!"

"Give it a rest. We both know that you care nothing for Narcissa's feelings in the matter. You're merely jealous. Can't stand to have me giving all my time and attention to another?"

"Well if you must know, yes! It was different when its different girls every night, but the same one? I think you're getting too attached." Her voice was getting emotional. He heard the cracking of held back tears in her throat and he couldn't help but sigh. He knew that this would happen sooner or later; that tell-tale day when Bellatrix wouldn't be able to keep herself disinterested in the situation.

"How much longer do you think this interrogation will take?"

"This isn't an interrogation Lucius," Bellatrix whined.

"Just come out with it then. What do you want from me?" His voice was exasperated and she sensed this. At his invitation to be straight she inched towards him, placing her drink on a nearby table. Lucius picked his up, the two fingers of scotch. He figured that with how much liquor he'd had, only more could be a good thing. He sung his white-blond head back and swallowed the generous amount.

"You know what I want." Bella looked down at her feet, unable to look him in the eye. This was so out of character for Bellatrix that Lucius knew that it must be a sincere emotion. He rose from his chair, his head swimming for only a second before clearing again. He slowly made his way toward her.

"Do I?" He asked, his body so close to hers, he could feel her shaking. He took a tendril of her hair and placed it gently behind her ear. She pushed her head into his hand, reminding his of a cat.

The idea of this typically repulsed Lucius, who knew that he could find sex from many other waiting and willing women than his sister-in-law. Yet tonight the idea intrigued him. He had kissed the mudblood. Perhaps by using the body of one of the most pureblooded women around he could purge his sins, so to speak.

Lucius pulled her close, both hands on the curve of her hips. She was rather tiny in his hands. Bella moaned and pushed her body up against his, barely breathing as she raised her face to him. He could smell the liquor that she had just drank melding with his own breath. Lucius, lost in the moment himself, ran his hands up and down her spine enjoying how she arched her back, pressing herself more fully into him.

Leaning down slowly, he could feel her breath catch. He smiled at the odd serenity of the moment. As she sighed he pressed his lips to hers. With his mouth to hers, with their bodies pressed against each other he tried to stop his mind. He could feel Bellatrix holding onto him. He could feel her arms wrapped around his neck so tight it was amazing he could breathe at all. He knew that in his arms was his wife's sister. Lucius knew that if he wanted to he could take her to his bed. Yet, he hesitated. He knew with logical thinking that it was Bella in his arms but in his mind it was Granger as it had been just over an hour ago.

Slowly he pulled away from her. He removed his hands from the bunches of hair he had taken in his fists. She sighed, swaying in his arms. Lucius separated himself from her warm body and moved slowly to the side. He didn't spare her a glance as he walked away.

Bellatrix watched his retreating back and felt the cooling burn of Lucius' lips on her own. She smiled though a few stray tears inched out of her dark and luminous eyes. This behavior was so typical of him, she thought. Everyone thought he was so brave and cold, incapable of true emotion. Some might even think that his walking away was proof of just that. Yet Bellatrix knew the real Lucius, she thought, and the real Lucius was the one who had kissed her and couldn't continue because it was all _too much_. Bellatrix comforted herself with that singular thought again and again as she wrapped the green lap blanked around herself once more and re-lit the fire. He would be back, she thought, it was just a matter of time.

IIII

She awoke with a clear head in her own bed. The sun had slowly begun to inch its way through the crisp, cotton blue curtains. She sat up and wondered how she had gotten there. Her last memory had been that she had sat on her sofa with a pot of tea and had wondered what to do on a lonely Saturday night.

In the haze of it all, she didn't remember doing anything after that. She hadn't consumed any alcohol, she should at least remember getting into bed, should she not? She stood up slowly to go to the washroom. The white tiles felt like ice to her naked feet. Had she stayed home all night? Gone to bed early? She must have. She washed her face unceremoniously and patted it dry with the dark brown towel that hung on the rack beside her and felt her stomach growl.

Food.

Hermione walked into the kitchen, and turned on the gas burner, setting the kettle full of water on to boil.

Toast.

Eggs. She felt like a big breakfast. She walked to the refrigerator and opened the door.

Bacon, she thought. Definitely bacon. Her stomach growled again brutally, reminding herself to make it quick.

Hermione liked to cook and could do it rather well. It was quite a bit like potions and she had always excelled in that at school. So with her natural talent she began to cook up a storm without even having to think. It was like conducting music. Take the screaming kettle off the burner and begin to brew the tea. Place the skillet with a dab of butter on it, letting it heat to a sizzle, drop in two eggs. She did it all, not really mulling over any of it; it was a second nature to her. She took a freshly brewed cup of tea and began to sip it as she watched the bacon sizzle closely. The smells floating around her made her feel intoxicated and she couldn't wait until she could devour it all.

Devour.

Odd. That word stuck out as it whizzed past in her mind. Devour.

Hermione took the metal spatula and flipped the eggs over, careful not to break the yokes. She liked to soak up the yokes with her toast. Sean had taught her that. Sean had taught her a lot of things, she reminded herself, and not all of them were good. She looked back in shame at the night when he had gotten so drunk he had tried to take advantage of her in the snow. She would never in her mind, be able to forgive herself for letting that happen. Of course, she should go easy on herself. He had stunned her! Thank god Eve had come along. If she hadn't, who knew where she'd be.

Eve. Something about Eve last night. She had wanted to go to the bar to thank her for helping her that night. Apparently she hadn't gone. Hermione smirked at the fact that she probably couldn't get the nerve up to go. It would have been too weird, she thought. But really, she did remember feeling quite adamant about going. She had convinced herself that maybe out of all of this badness she would finally make a friend. She'd been so lonely recently. So why hadn't she gone to see her?

She scooped up the eggs and bacon onto her round plate. Placing the buttered toast cut into triangles around it she headed for the dining room table. Tucking in to the fantastic breakfast she let her mind wrap around the previous night. She couldn't remember anything while she'd been awake, excluding that portion where she'd sat on the sofa and contemplated seeing Eve. She'd had a strange dream though.

Someone had pointed a wand in her face in the darkness then turned their back and disappeared.

Peculiar dream, she thought.

Hermione tasted the bacon and commended herself on a job well done. She'd think about it more later. Right now, she merely wanted to enjoy a good breakfast on a late Sunday morning.


	11. Bubble, Bubble Toil and Trouble

Chapter 11: Bubble, Bubble. Toil and Trouble.

The racks were placed awfully close together. She could barely move between the aisles, checking out the clothing. Not to mention that the clothing, attached to their plastic hangers, were mashed so tightly onto the racks that she had to remove the item from the rack to get a good look at it.

What had possessed her to come into this particular store anyway?

She'd been walking up and down the streets of London, positively bored. She had no friends. She no longer had a boyfriend. She'd spent the past week in her cottage wondering who would find her dead body in 40 years when she died in her sleep and nobody would miss her. It had been about that time when she had to get out of that small space so she didn't suffocate in her own loneliness.

So Hermione had taken a quick shower, dragging on some blue jeans and black boots, accessorizing with a dark blue sweater. She looked in the mirror and squeezed out a bit of mousse and ran it through her hair to tame the frizz in her natural curls.

No makeup.

No reason to take the time.

No reason to waste it.

She left the cottage in a flurry hoping that her girly gene would kick in and perhaps a shopping trip would bring her a bit of happiness.

And so here she stood, in Bella's clothing and designs, wondering if she'd look at all respectable in a color that could only be described as lime. She took the silky lime blouse and slung it over her arm, browsing around the next few racks. Hermione picked up a brown knee length, leather skirt and decided that it couldn't hurt to try it on. She gathered a few more choice pieces that could or very well could not look good on her and she hurried to the dressing rooms.

Well the leather skirt was a big no. Absolutely not, Hermione thought as she quickly unzipped it and hung it back on its hanger. After she'd put on a snug pair of black slacks, and the lime top, she decided that it wasn't so bad. She could make it work. She could definitely make it work.

She redressed herself in her own clothes and unlocked the dressing room.

"Eve?" The woman standing in the line waiting for the next available dressing room with long, dark hair looked up.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, suddenly realizing how ridiculous the question was.

"Oh, I was just shopping. I come here all the time. Do you?"

This made sense to Hermione. The wild and bright clothing that surrounded her in the store seemed just Eve's type compared to her own, gentler safe sense.

"No… no, I just found it this morning."

"Well, let me go in and just try these on. We can talk when I'm done!"

"Sure.. sure!"

Eve walked into the dressing room Hermione had just exited. She waited, walking to the register and purchasing the black slacks and the lime top. As Eve's dressing room door opened, Hermione began to wonder why she had stuck around. This was possibly going to end very badly; she was dating Lucius after all.

"So what do you have planned today?" Eve asked as she approached Hermione from the other end of the check- out line.

"Oh, I was just doing a bit of shopping…" Hermione looked around awkwardly, unaware of where to take it next.

"Well, were you planning on having lunch after your bit of shopping?" Eve cocked her head to the side, her dark hair cascading over her shoulder. "Shopping always makes me starved and I know this fantastic little sandwich place with incredible pastries and two for one happy hour cocktails and it's almost two… which will make it a very happy hour if you know what I mean. Are you interested?

Go on, Hermione.

It won't be so hard.

You're all alone.

What do you have to lose?

She was about to say yes when she remembered that Eve was also the woman who was committing adultery with the evilest man in the wizarding world since Voldemort was defeated.

What if he's changed?

What if Eve doesn't know any of that?

How can I judge a person on that alone?

"Lunch sounds absolutely fantastic, and believe me, I could handle a cocktail right about now."

"Fantastic!"

IIII

"I've never had this many margaritas at three in the afternoon!"

Her head was swimming and giggles kept bubbling up out of her throat.

"That's why its fabulous. Here, have some solid food. I think they want us to walk out of here."

Eve was confident.

Eve was charming.

Eve was.

She just was.

"So how do you know Lucius?"

And there it was.

The inevitable question that Hermione knew was going to come at some point.

How was she supposed to answer this?

"He's the father of someone I went to school with."

"You don't sound so pleased about that."

"Well you're a witch. You know what happened."

The alcohol was now not only swimming in her head, but in the pit of her stomach.

"Yes. I do."

Eve leaned back and sipped her drink. Her green eyes were roaming the bar. The easy comfort that had started between them was taking a large lapse.

"And aren't you afraid?"

"People change. What happened was a long time ago. Haven't you changed?"

Hermione thought how she hadn't spoken to Ginny or Ron in years.

"Mmm. Touché. Do you want another drink?"

IIII

Lying on the floor she looked up at the ceiling, popcorned and misshapen.

It was spinning in circles.

"Eve."

"Yes?"

"Do… do you think about… things happening for a reason?"

"What do you mean?"

"What time is it?"

Eve sat up and looked around at the clock hanging on the opposite wall of her flat.

"I… I don't know!" She began laughing until Hermione started giggling herself. Hermione sat up and looked at the clock herself. After focusing and unfocusing, squinting her eyes and trying not to move for a good minute or so the hands on the clock finally could be made out.

"It's ten until midnight."

"We've spent the whole day together."

"No Eve… we've spent the whole day… drunk… together."

Hermione started laughing, bending over and massaging her aching sides.

Eve got up and walked to the half empty bottle of red wine she had left on the side table. She took a sip and the warm, dark liquid ran down her throat.

"I have to lay down."

"Hermione took a quick sip of the wine that Eve held out to her. Such a strange feeling when you were so intoxicated that you couldn't even taste the alcohol any longer.

"Come on 'Mione… lay down on the bed with me. Maybe we should take a little nap."

Hermione walked to the left side of the bed in Eve's studio apartment and laid down.

She closed her eyes and felt herself spinning in the darkness.

"Eve, I never get drunk like this."

"Neither do I. I serve it, but I don't partake…"

"Mmm…"

Hermione felt like she was floating.

She was so far in her own mind that when she heard that creaking noise she assumed it was in her own head. A creaking because it had been so long since she'd spent this much time in her own mind.

"Well what do we have here?"

Hermione felt a hundred miles away.

"'Mione.. guess who came to visit?"

"Who?"

"Open your eyes!"

Slowly she opened her eyes. Eve sat over her, with a wide smile on her face.

"What are you doing, Eve?"

"Lucius is here!"

Hermione sat up so fast her head began to spin and she fought the urge to lay back down.

"Malfoy?"

He sat there, perched on the edge of the bed. Was he smiling? Or was that a frown?

"I don't… I don't feel so well." Her stomach began to churn the same way the room around her seemed to be.

"Don't be sick Hermione!" Eve put her hand on her back and began to massage her. "Lucius is here."

"I think I should go home."

Hermione slowly swung her legs off the bed. Every part of her body yelled out or danger, and she wished that there was some sort of inner way to sober herself up.

"Why?" Eve's voice became whiny somewhere in the distance.

"because its late… and I don't feel well."

"Well don't apparate. You'll splice yourself for sure. You are really, really drunk."

She was right. Apparation was really dangerous if you didn't have full concentration.

"Well, I'll just walk then."

Hermione stood up and felt dizzy with alcohol. What an awful feeling, she thought. Why do people do this on a regular basis?

She grabbed her black jacket and headed toward the door.

" Well, thanks for today Eve." How did one say goodbye to someone they hardly knew but spent the whole day in the bottle with?

"It was fantastic! I'll call you later this week… when the alcohol finally wears off!" Eve began to laugh and rolled into pillow. Within seconds she was back asleep.

Hermione left the room, closing the door tight behind her. Why did she leave again?

Now she remembered. Lucius had come. For what reason she couldn't begin to comprehend. How in the world was she to become friends with Eve if she was seeing that bastard?

"Careful on those steps. I'd really hate to see you fall down." A smooth voice floated over her.

Hermione let out a small squeal and turned quickly to see who was behind her.

"Malfoy?" She really wished for once she could keep the fear out of her own voice. "What do you want? I thought you went to see Eve."

She turned once more and began hurrying away as fast as her cold, intoxicated legs would carry her.

"I thought I did too. Surprised I was to see her in bed with a female mudblood. But now she's gone and passed out. Fucking her this way just wouldn't be nearly as fun."

"Shut it, Malfoy. Go home… go home to your wife." Her feet beneath her felt oddly unsteady and she prayed she wouldn't slip and fall on the ice that covered the sidewalk.

Lucius tucked away her snippety remark and continued to follow her.

She could hear his quick, certain steps moving slowly behind her and she wished she had anything else to occupy her mind with instead of counting his paces.

"What are you doing? Just go away." Hermione wanted nothing more than to jinx him into oblivion and crawl under the warm covers of her own bed. Unfortunately jinxing was out of the question. Anything she shot at him would probably back fire and he had all the control seeing as how he was sober.

" Following you home, Mudblood."

The coldness in his voice crept up her spine.

She began to comprehend her words and fear bubbled up in her stomach like bile.

"Following me home?"

"Yes. You see, I'm quite fascinated with you, Mudblood."


	12. Here is Gone

Chapter 12: Here is Gone

She floated.

Darkness surrounded her and she was floating.

This must be what death is like, she thought. To be completely separated from your body, and exist only in your own mind, that must be death. Using her mind she commanded her leg to move. As her left foot twitched and slid across a smooth surface pain shot up her weak muscles.

"Ugh…"

She struggled to open her eyes. A slit of light flooded her pupils and she quickly shut her eyes once more. The light must have signaled to her brain to begin a rigorous drumming, because suddenly her head felt like the broken concrete underneath an angry construction worker's jackhammer.

Aspirin.

No. She needed something much stronger than muggle medication.

Gathering herself mentally, Hermione struggled to get herself up. She shielded her eyes and slowly opened them. She shrugged off the blanket and sheet and began to rally her muscles to lift herself up. As she stood, she looked down at herself.

"Why in the world am I naked?" She couldn't remember dragging herself home from Eve's let alone taking off her clothes. In fact, Hermione thought, the last thing she remembered was laying on Eve's bed and feeling quite sleepy.

She quickly reached into her bureau of drawers and pulled out a long nightgown.

Aching all over she headed for the kitchen to make a witch's hangover remedy.

IIII

With the pot bubbling on the stove, Hermione sat exhausted in a dining room chair waiting. She let her mind wander over the tangle of memories of the previous day.

"What a fool I've made of myself. I can't imagine Eve ever wanting to speak to me again." She flopped her head down onto her folded arms, upset that she'd managed to mess up the first chance of a friendship in quite a long while.

Walking into the kitchen she grabbed a blue mug from a glass cabinet. She placed a soft black oven mitt on her open hand and reached for the bubbling pot, ladling it into her waiting mug.

Hermione sipped at the concoction, glad once more that she is no mere muggle.

With her mug quite full still, she began walking around her small cottage, peering around at her few valuables.

"This is my life. This is what I've grown up to be and I didn't even realize it was happening."

She still felt like such a child in so many ways, but she'd have to face it sooner or later that she was closer to thirty than she was to fifteen.

She reached for the sheet and blanket on her bed and struggled to make the bed. As she adjusted the pillows, she saw it.

A single blonde hair.

It lay on the far pillow, the one she didn't sleep on, but currently used to hug when she got lonely in the middle of the night.

A single, long whitish, blonde hair.

She gently set her mug half full with the hangover remedy on her nightstand. She leaned over the far side of the bed and picked up the hair softly in two fingers.

It hit her like a great fist reaching into her belly and twisting her intestines around.

It felt much like someone had just slugged her hard and she was out of breath as she fell onto the edge of the bed, clutching the single hair to her chest and closing her eyes.

"_Your skin is quite soft." _

"_Mmm," she moaned softly into the pillow. _

_Turning her head she could see in the shadowy light that filled her room his masculine features and icy blue eyes blaze as he removed her sweater._

_Though her vision was fuzzy and everything she saw seemed to have a furry edge, she watched as he gracefully folded her sweater and set it on her desk chair before reaching for his glass of wine on the edge of her nightstand. _

"_Don't fall asleep." His voice was soft in a way she almost didn't recognize. She let her eyes close as she felt his weight shift onto the mattress. _

_His fingers were smooth and warm as she felt them stroke along her cheeks and lips. _

IIII

She raced around her apartment looking for signal signs like those she had just seen. Maybe it was just a dream, she prayed in an awkward way, replaying the thought over and over in her mind.

She reached for her desk chair and swung it around.

Lying on the seat of the chair sat her blue sweater she'd worn the day before folded neatly.

Hermione walked awkwardly to the kitchen and set her mug in the sink filling it with water to rinse it out. Sitting on the counter opposite the sink, sat two wine glasses, one half full still, one with just a few droplets left inside.

That same, painful blow to her stomach came and she crouched over as she forced her eyes to close.

"_Please leave me alone…" She felt quite weak so she leaned against the door frame to her front door._

"_You don't have the strength to deny me. I could do what I please with you and you couldn't fight me off, mudblood." His voice was as cold as the winter wind he blocked with his wide body. He took a step closer to her. _

_She turned away, her face burning with embarrassment at the realization of how right he was. Hermione closed her eyes wishing that she'd wake up, with the assurance that it was all just a bad dream. _

"_You don't want to do this. I'm dirty, remember? I'm a mudblood!" Saying it, disgusted her, but she couldn't fight him off physically, she knew her only chance was to use her mental wits, which were frazzled and as weak as her body at the moment. _

"_Perhaps," Lucius took his gloved hand and placed it under her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "Perhaps, that is precisely why I am so intrigued."_

IIII

Hermione stood up, tall once more, her feet planted firmly on the ground in her own kitchen.

She could feel her face burning and her eyes blurred with tears.

"Have I gone and slept with Malfoy?" Fear swelled in her throat choking the words out of her.


	13. Interlude

Chapter 13: Interlude

She stood in the shower, scrubbing her body with a soapy sponge.

No matter of soap made her feel clean.

No matter the fact that the water had turned cold ages ago, after she'd exhausted the hot water deposit.

No matter how pruned her fingers had become.

Still she scrubbed.

Her skin was rather red and irritated from the mix if hard sponge and sprays of hot and cold water.

She hardly felt it. When she did feel it, she felt on that she deserved it.

With her hair wet and stringy about her shoulders and her body bent over hurriedly washing her legs she shot upright at the sound of a knock on her cottage door.

Was she imagining it?

Slowly, Hermione turned and rinsed quickly, shutting of the water. After she'd toweled off and nervously wrapped herself in a thick bathrobe she wandered out to her living room. As quietly as she could she pressed herself up against the peep hole, hoping that whoever was on the other side was not Lucius Malfoy and could not tell that she stood there pressed against the door.

Smiling happily into the peephole stood Eve.

Hermione stood back, debating internally if she should really open the door to her, or if she should ignore the knock and hope she went away. She'd finally decided to ignore her altogether when Eve knocked again.

"Oi! Come on Hermione! I know your in there… you can't still be asleep its nearly three in the afternoon."

Slowly, Hermione reached out and opened the door.

"Well its about time! Why are you so wet?"

"I just got out of the shower. What in the world are you doing here?"

"I thought after a crazy night like last night you might need some comforting," Eve laughed to herself and Hermione clung only closer to her robe.

Did Eve know?

It was ridiculous to even assume something like that.

"Can I come in?"

Feeling like a fool for standing there, wet, in front of an open door, Hermione made her way to the side to allow Eve to come in.

"Sure, I'll be right back. I'd better go change."

Hermione walked back into her bedroom and started rifling through her drawers for something to wear. The nerves in her belly would not stop jumping around. She picked up the blue sweater from the previous night off of her desk chair. Bastard, she thought. Quickly she flung on some old jeans and a t-shirt.

"Do you want some tea or anything?" Hermione asked as she made her way out of the bedroom back into the common area.

"That'd be lovely." Eve sat herself down at the dining room table and made herself comfortable. "So how were you feeling this morning?"

"Awful. Don't ever let me get like that again." Hermione filled up the tea kettle and set it on the burner, lighting the gas. "How were you?"

"Pretty surprised upon waking. I didn't even remember falling asleep! Which reminds me, when did you have the opportunity to sneak out?" Eve smiled up at Hermione, innocent to the horrors playing back in Hermione's own mind.

"Oh, I started feeling pretty ill after a bit. You laid down and I took my cue to make my way home."

"I can't believe you made it home all that way as drunk as you were! I had the strangest thought though… didn't Lucius stop by?"

Hermione rattled the plates she was taking out of the cupboard.

"Yes… I believe he did."

"Its strange. If he came over I would have distinctly remembered more… if you get my drift!" Eve let out her lovely laugh and leaned back on her chair, throwing her long black hair over her shoulder.

Hermione tensed up, unable to make her mouth move.

"I think you passed out as he arrived. I… I think he just left."

Eve's catlike green eyes seemed to narrow for just a moment.

"Is that so? Did he say anything to you perhaps?"

"Of course not!" Hermione laughed, disbursing any of Eve's second thoughts. "Tea's ready!"

IIII

She pointed her wand at herself and apparated.

The feeling was sudden yet familiar.

She saw the curving drive and marched up the stone strewn path. Her stomach grumbled in anticipation and she feared the feeling wouldn't go away before she needed to stay her peace.

Comically, she thought how long the driveway was.

She paused as she walked up the steps.

She didn't really have to do this.

It wasn't necessary. Was it?

She rang the door bell, and it creaked opened.

"Yes?"

Hermione looked down at the miniature creature that opened the door. Poor house elf, she thought.

"I…I…"

"Well, well. Are you back for seconds?"

Hermione froze in sight of the clear blue eyes.


	14. Crash Into Me

Chapter 14: Crash into Me

"Well don't just stand there. Come in if you must. Unless, that is, you merely came here to admire me." His lips turned up in a smirk that was becoming only more and more familiar to her.

It sent chills up her spine.

She stepped into the manor as if she were stepping onto a scaffold. Hesitation kept her constantly second guessing herself.

"So, why _are_ you here, Mudblood?"

Hermione glared at him, her tongue thick and dry in her mouth.

"I…umm…" _Be strong Hermione_, she chastised herself. "I need to know what happened last night."

"Of course you do. Maybe from now on you should remember that liquor isn't your strong suit."

Lucius stepped over to the granite fireplace and lit the logs with the tip of his wand.

"Did you… did we?" Her voice was shaking, her mind wondering if she could be any more embarrassed.

"Did we what? Did we speak? Did we chatter like twelve year old girls?" Lucius swept his robes out of the way as he sat gracefully on the arm of a chair. "Really, what do you _think_ we did?"

Her face burned red.

"How could this have happened?" She asked, speaking more to herself than to him.

"Are you out of your mind, Mudblood? Do you really assume that _I_ would ever touch you? You are a dirty, not to mention ugly mudblood."

Hermione jumped as she heard approaching footsteps. The last thing she needed was to have his wife walk in on this particular conversation.

"Oh you filthy mudblood! Look Lucius! The rats have gotten into your home. What ever will we do?" Bellatrix entered the room with her wand raised and pointed at Hermione's face.

Hermione stayed silent, gripping her own wand in her hand. A bead of sweat dripped and rolled down her spine. _How will I get out of this?_

"Bella darling, have you met the scum of the earth? This is Granger…" Lucius rose and poured himself a drink.

"I've met the little bitch. My question is dear brother, what in the world is she doing here?"

"That was exactly what we were getting around to when you so rudely entered where you weren't welcome." Lucius threw his head back, gulping down the shot of whiskey.

"So mudblood, what are you doing here?" Bellatrix rounded on Hermione, circling her, never once letting her drift out of her eye sight.

"I really don't know," Hermione finally stuttered out. Bellatrix let out a guffaw soaked with delight.

"Oh this is priceless! Lucius, don't you just want to die of over this?" Bella asked, walking towards Malfoy, waiting expectantly for his approval.

Hermione took the chance to move slowly toward the entry way, never turning her back on them.

"Actually, I don't Bella. Really, she's quite pathetic isn't she?" Lucius asked, looking past Bellatrix as if she didn't even exist to lay eyes once more on Hermione. She stopped dead in her tracks. "Now, now Miss Granger, were you wanting to leave so soon?"

Hermione nodded her head stiffly, feeling like quite the statuette on display.

"Well then, what's stopping you, mudblood? We don't _want_ to keep you around, do we Lucius?"

Hermione nodded again, and turned seeing herself quickly out of the Malfoy Manor.

IIII

"Are you out of your bloody mind?"

"The one escaped from the loony bin is calling me crazy?"

"What in the hell was that little bitch doing in your house?"

"I don't know… perhaps she's selling cookies and candy." Lucius took a seat in a dark green armchair facing a window, finding the idea of not seeing Bella completely pleasing.

"Really now, a mudblood in Malfoy Manor? The Dark Lord would have struck you dead."

"The Dark Lord is dead, Bellatrix! When will that be clearly in your mind? Its over." Lucius looked over his shoulder to see Bella glaring at him over a glass of brandy. "Did you come here for any reason in particular?"

"Don't try to change the subject. I can't believe you just said that… you know it will never truly be over Lucius! Now I want to know the truth! What was Granger doing here?"

"Damn it Bella, how am I supposed to know? I believe she's a friend of Eve's."

"Eve? That barmaid you still haven't tired of?"

"Exactly. I went to visit Eve late last night and I found the two of them drunk, giggling on Eve's bed together."

"Oh and I'm sure if she wasn't a mudblood you would have taken advantage of that situation."

"In a heart beat, like any man would, dear. Anyway, she probably remembered seeing me there for a moment before I left. I think she might have a little obsession with me."

"Who wouldn't, brother dear?"

"Now that you have an explanation do you want to tell me what the hell you're doing here?"

"Now, now… don't move on so fast. I'm sure that's a believable enough scenario, but how am I do know that something else didn't happen?"

"You don't and its really none of your business." Lucius stood and got another drink. Bella was beginning to wear on his nerves.

"Do you mean to insinuate that you'd actually touch that ugly creature?"

"Did I say that? I meant to say 'stay out of it Bella!'"

"I can't believe you. I mean it, I will tell my sister about this one. Even she can't turn a blind eye to you fucking a mudblood! How can you taint yourself after everything we've been through in our lives to keep things pure?"

Lucius stood. He sauntered over to Bellatrix and traced her jaw line with his index finger.

"You know, you look quite lovely today, sister."

"I know that," Bella simpered. She melted under his touch.

"You know, why would I ever get so desperate as to touch a tainted one, when I still haven't had the chance to have you?" Lucius wrapped his large hands gently around the back of Bella's throat. She sucked in a quivering breath.

"Why haven't you then?"

Lucius leaned down, tightening his grip on her throat slightly. Without a second thought he pressed his lips to Bella's, guiding her roughly with his tongue.

IIII

Hermione quickened her pace as she saw the gates that exited the Malfoy's property. Soon she'd be beyond the barriers that allowed no apparation.

How stupid can I possibly be? Hermione thought single-mindedly as she walked.

Crunch.

Crunch.

Crunch.

Hermione froze.

Within feet of the barrier, Hermione glanced around before running for it intending to never find out exactly what was coming near her.

As she glanced over her shoulder she bounced off a great mass.

Looking up, she screamed.

"What in the name of all that is pure are you doing here?"

"Malfoy! I…" Hermione looked into the icy blue replica of Lucius.

"I asked you a question mudblood."

"Draco…"

Quickly realizing that she was within the apparation area, Hermione pointed her wand at herself, disappearing.


	15. My Favorite Mistake

Chapter 15: My Favorite Mistake

"Why was the mudblood here?"

"Why would I bloody know? She wasn't here to see me."

"Well, she must have been, dear. It is the only logical explanation."

"I wasn't even here. If you'd remember correctly, I came in after she left. It was you and my father that happened to actually be here, auntie."

"Don't be fresh, Draco. She wasn't here to see me."

"Of course not! The girl doesn't have a death wish." Draco laughed to himself. He sat lounging in an arm chair flipping through a few books he distinctly remembered hiding cigarettes in a few years back.

"What the hell does she want with your father?" Bellatrix asked, more to herself than to Draco.

"How would I know? I'm not a mind reader."

"Draco! Will you listen to yourself? Aren't you curious about this? There is something about it all that makes me uneasy."

"A little, yes. But its not as if we have any reason to be suspicious of Father. What would he want with that plain little _thing_?"

"No reason to be suspicious? How absurd. When has anything so close to a muggle ever set foot in Malfoy Manor? Why would your father allow such a thing?"

"Really… you honestly think-?"

"Draco! There is much you don't know about your father." Bellatrix rang her hands nervously. She feared Lucius himself would enter, or worse, overhear. The kiss he had given her before excusing himself had done nothing to sway her from the path she was on. Lucius was up to something and she intended to find out what.

IIII

_I cannot believe her nerve! To walk into Malfoy Manor as if it means nothing!_

He paused his pacing, opening the closet doors, looking at his own reflection staring back.

_Why did I let her in? Were this four years ago, she wouldn't have made it off the property without being hexed! Now, you let her into your untainted home to have a friendly chat? _

Lucius started at himself in disgust before pulling out a dark cloak and slamming the closet door shut, shattering the glass on the other side.

IIII

Eve had been by.

She hadn't bothered to open the door.

After lighting a fire in the cottage grate, she'd wrapped herself in a blanket with boiling tea.

She couldn't shake this chill.

It seemed to sink so deeply inside of her. Her fingers and toes felt frozen to the touch. Her body shook slightly when she brought her tea cup to her lips.

As soon as she'd left Malfoy Manor she'd known it had been a mistake. Why would Lucius have any reason to give a straight answer either way? Why would she ever have gone there in the first place? Against all of her logic she crossed that line.

The same line that defined who she was and who he thought she was.

Hermione shifted her eyes away from the fire, blinking her rapidly. She closed them, attempting to let the bright orange and yellow of the fire wash out of her eyes, no longer burning her corneas.

Maybe it had all just been a dream, she thought.

A twisted nightmare to haunt her.

Yet, if it had been a dream, how had it been so damned realistic? The more she thought about it, the more the mental flashbacks became more vivid. She'd spent the afternoon focusing on those clips and visions, willing the details to flood back into her. Soon, within her minds eye, when Lucius' hand touched her face she swore she could almost feel the slight tickle on her cheek. When his weight shifted on the mattress, pulling her own body towards his, she remembered that distinct feeling of falling into him.

She was more than merely haunted with the reality of it all.

Unknowingly, unable to change it, when she closed her eyes out of frustration or sheer exhaustion she was flooded with it once more. The feeling of seeing his long blond hair sweeping down his back when he stood up and away from her. It all was coming back to her. Hermione hoped that if she relaxed, warmed her body and focused on something else she'd be able to sleep and forget the whole damned awful day.

After staring into the fireplace for another forty minutes, her tea pot empty and her bladder full, she unwrapped herself from the fleece blanket and went to the bathroom.

A dreamless sleeping draught would have been just wondrous.

Unfortunately she didn't have all the ingredients or have a week to brew the sweet substance. Positive she could purchase some from the apothecary down Diagon Alley, she contemplated getting dressed.

_Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. _

Hermione froze, bent over the sink where she'd been washing her hands. _Perhaps if I stay still_, she thought, _whoever it was would go away._

_Knock. Knock. Knock. _

"Who the hell could that be?" Hermione whispered, leaning over the porcelain sink to splash her face with warm water.

_Knock. Knock. Knock. _

"I know you're in there, Granger!" A man's muffled voice floated through the cottage.

"Persistent bugger," Hermione whispered as she dried her face and hands. She walked to the front door as quietly as she could, attempting to peek through the peep hole.

"Granger, I know you're on the other side. Keep this up and I'll blow the whole damned thing off its hinges!"

Hermione gasped, pulling away from the door. She was surprised to see Lucius himself leaning against the door frame, waving his wand haphazardly.

IIII

She wrapped the blanked around herself, refusing to sit. In fact, she hovered over where _he'd_ chosen to perch.

"I don't appreciate you coming to my home."

"The feeling is rather mutual."

Silence.

"What the hell do you want, Malfoy?"

"Now, now. There is no reason to be so short. I came over for a nice visit."

His broad shoulders relaxed against the brown leather chair, warmed by the dying fire.

"I don't know why you have this obsession with making me miserable—"

Lucius rose from the chair, lunging for Hermione with his wand raised.

"How dare you insinuate, you dirty little mudblood, that I have any obsession at all with the likes of you!"

Hermione froze, her eyes moving wildly from his wand pointed at her chest and his blue eyes that had become so quickly the color and coldness of ice.

"I.. I…" Hermione whispered, unsure of whether he wanted an apology or not.

"Let me make something abundantly clear, Ms. Granger," Lucius paused, stepping away from her, pocketing his wand and straightening his robes. "You and I are not friends. We now associate though _unusual_ circumstances. You are not to come to my home again. Do you understand?"

She took a deep breath. With the blanket wrapped tight around her body, she straightened her shoulders and looked Lucius straight in the eye.

"I do not want to be your friend, Malfoy. I have no interest in knowing you any further. The only reason I came to your home was to know what happened last night after you followed me home from Eve's apartment. If you'll recall you're the one Mr. Malfoy, who has repeatedly followed _me_ and come to _my_ home."

Lucius smirked.

Her will to stand up to him was quite impressive.

"You're still insinuating I have some sort of obsession with you," He said.

"Hermione stayed hard, refusing to be goaded in by him again.

"Why do you think anything happened between us last night?" Malfoy cocked his head to the side, fingering a few of the book bindings on the shelf opposite.

Her face beat red. How could she possibly describe this to him?

"It was nothing." She looked up into his face and then away again, quickly. "Call it a feeling."

"A feeling? One, how ridiculous is that? And two, you're lying."

Hermione mentally kicked herself. She was speaking to a talented occlumense.

"Never mind. Lets forget the whole damn thing, alright?"

"No. I'd like to know what you've been fantasizing about me."

Hermione huffed, turning away from him she fingered the curtain to the living room window.

"I have not been fantasizing _anything_ about _you_!"

"Come, come. Nothing to be embarrassed about, love. You wouldn't be the first." Lucius stood and walked behind her. He took her by the shoulders and turned her around roughly, to face him.

Her brown eyes grew frantic and he saw tears well up in them.

Smiling he dropped his hands from her shoulders.

"With this feeling, did you think I touched you?"

Hermione didn't say a single word. It took all of her power to look away from his blue eyes.

"Ah. So I did." Lucius laughed. He took his left hand, his gold wedding band glinting in the fire light and touched her cheek softly, trailing it from the corner of her right eye down to her chin. "Was it anything like this?"

Hermione shook and backed away, shuddering into the door.

"Up against a wall, are we?" Lucius stepped closer to her. "I'll take that as a yes then. What else did I do in your little fantasy?"

He fingered the fabric of the blanket she had wrapped around herself, holding her arms across her chest in defense.

"No need for this, Mudblood. It's quite warm in here."

Lucius grabbed her wrists roughly, shaking the blanket from her grip, allowing it to drop to the floor.

"Did I kiss you, Granger? Did your fantasy include a small little kiss?"

Hermione shook her head rapidly. Her mahogany eyes growing bigger as she looked from side to side. Lucius barricaded her in, placing both hands on either side of her head as he leaned in.

"You know, I can tell when your lying, Mudblood and I don't even have to read your mind. I know that you think I've kissed you. Let's just test it out. If it was anything like I'm about to do, then we know for sure that I've kissed you previously. We'll be detectives and solve this mystery right, don't you think?"

Lucius smirked as he leaned down. He could feel her breath stop mid-exhale. With her pink lips shaking in fear he touched them ever so softly with his own, letting them linger there in the middle of a kiss, holding it, holding her.

Finally with her body shaking and knowing that if he hadn't been holding her up, she'd have fallen straight to the floor, Lucius pulled away.

He looked her straight in the eye, searching for that feminine will he'd witnessed just moments before. There wasn't a trace of it.

Suddenly realizing as he looked at her exactly what the hell he was doing, he took his right hand back as far as it would go.

His palm connected fiercely with her pale, pink cheek.

"I thought I told you, mudblood, not to insinuate that I would have anything at all to do with you?"

Quickly, Lucius pushed her to the ground, and opened the door to the cottage.

"You think I'd really ever fuck you? You pathetic little thing."

The door closed roughly behind him.

IIII


	16. Until I Fall Away

Chapter 16: Until I Fall Away

She cowered on the floor.

Her whole body shook with fear and with the power behind the strike he'd given her.

She tongued her mouth tasting the metallic blood where her inner cheek had collided with her teeth.

"Goddamn bastard," she managed.

Shakily she began to stand. It amazed Hermione how she was able to gain control of her legs so soon. She'd never felt anything like that before.

The strength of his open palm had stunned her to the core.

But before that… no—she wouldn't be reminded of that. She wished that somehow she could erase the image completely.

With trepidation she went slowly to the window and peered out. It was so dark she couldn't see much but dark, unmoving figures.

He was gone, she concluded with relief.

What she didn't see in the dark were the two figures perched behind two bushes directly across from her cottage.

IIII

"Auntie… did you see that?" His voice was weak and uncertain. With a glance to the side he saw that Bella's face had blanched so completely she looked like a corpse.

"Of course I bloody well saw that." Bellatrix paused for a moment and adjusted the grimace on her face for posterities sake. "We can't be sure of what we've seen."

"Are you serious?" Draco's voice rose hesitantly, unsure of his unstable aunt. "I saw Father go into that dirty mudblood's house."

"I saw that much myself. I'm not blind." Her voice was razor sharp. "Perhaps it was to teach the filthy thing a lesson about stepping foot on pureblood property."

"And the _kiss_? What kind of lesson was that?" Frustration pulsed through him. He didn't want to believe it until he saw it with his own eyes. How could his aunt protect him now? They were following him intending to catch him on Bella's command! What had gotten in to her?

"We were watching from a distance through a filmy curtain. We're lucky we saw anything at all. It is very possible he was just speaking to her very closely, to drive the point home." Her dark eyes became cloudy and hard for Draco to read.

"Why are you protecting him?"

"I'm doing no such thing. Come Draco, we should get back. You're father is probably already back at the Mansion. We wouldn't want to look suspicious, would we?" Bellatrix adjusted her robes as she stood and began walking to a dark alleyway, intending to apparate. She needed time to think about this without the incessant child talking into her head disrupting her thoughts.

IIII

He poured a glass of scotch and paused before he brought the glass to his lips.

For a moment he could still taste her lips on his. Not wanting the taste to be washed away with the alcohol he put the glass down.

"Where have you been all day?"

Lucius whipped around, he face in a perfect sneer.

"What business is that of yours?"

"I'm your wife, Lucius. Or have you forgotten?" Her tone was terse. Her face a livid picture of hatred.

"Why so angry love?"

"Don't pull that 'love' trick on me. I'm not one of your young witches ready to be charmed into bed."

"Oh Narcissa, dear. Please, this isn't the time."

"This isn't the time for what? Must we schedule a time to discuss your many whores?"

"I'm warning you."

She laughed a cackle so hideous her beautiful, pale face became distorted and unsightly.

"You're _warning_ me? What on earth does that mean? Watch my step or the big, bad Lucius will strike me?" Her bright blue eyes glowed hot with anger.

Lucius could tell she was drunk. So unlike Narcissa.

The phrase she had used, to watch her step or he'd strike her, it made his throat go dry. He turned, placing a grimace on his face before throwing the glass of scotch down his throat. It burned a path to his stomach.

"What are you rattling on about? Really? Please, get to the point. I don't have time for this."

"Don't have time for what?" She sighed, knowing that Lucius was nearly impossible to goad into a fight.

"Really Narcissa! I don't have time for your questions. I'm going out!"

"But you just returned, didn't you?" Her eyes narrowed.

Lucius poured another drink, thankful that he didn't have to taste Hermione when speaking to his wife.

"Yes. I didn't intend on staying." He whipped away from the sidebar and began heading towards the main entry way.

Bellatrix and Draco entered as he pulled out his cloak from the closet.

"Going out, Father?"

"Yes." He answered curtly.

"Be home by dinner!" Narcissa called, giggling and faking a sweet, nonsensical voice.

Lucius rolled his eyes as he exited the manor, feeling the chill of winter at his back and thankful for it once more.

IIII

"What was that about, Sister?"

"Oh nothing…" Narcissa hummed to herself.

Bellatrix was practically holding herself together with all her might. She'd never been one for hiding her feelings but it seemed imperative to do so in front of Draco and Narcissa.

Draco glared at his aunt before marching up the staircase. He had his own thinking to do.

"Where were you two?" Narcissa asked, not really caring, with her ears half listening for a reply.

"Just out… some shopping," Bellatrix concluded.

"Sister," Narcissa began, suddenly cocking her head to the side as she watched her sisters dark face turn pale.

"Yes, sissy dear?"

"I think I'm going to leave Lucius."

Bella dropped the book she'd been pretending to leaf through, turning to look at her sister, perched on the very edge of the sofa in front of the fireplace.

"What are you talking about?"

"Exactly what I said. Draco's old enough. It doesn't matter anymore."

"We're purebloods Narcissa. We don't condone this sort of… act. Just have an affair if you're getting antsy." Bellatrix tried to wrap her mind around the concept of Narcissa doing anything on her own as she bent down to pick up the book she'd dropped.

"I know what we are," Narcissa nearly barked, her face contorted with rage. "I'm not happy. I won't pretend that I am."

"You don't have to. That isn't the point. It's that it's merely not allowed." Bellatrix slowly took hesitant steps towards her sister who was breathing heavy, her white blonde hair in disarray and her face in a scowl.

"It's not banned. There is no wizarding law against it." Narcissa looked for a glimmer of hope in her sister's eyes, she looked for a bit of camaraderie.

"No, that isn't the point, Sissy. He won't allow it either way. There is nothing you can do."

Narcissa's face looked absolutely miserable as she nodded her head in agreement.

"You've made your bed, Narcissa, now you must lie in it."


	17. Frosty Channels to a Muted Stream

Chapter 17: Frosty Channels to a Muted Stream

The draft in the hall picked up. The winter weather outside was growing colder and more brutal every day. Standing at the top of the stairs in a black short sleeve blouse she let the goose bumps rise on her flesh, though she couldn't tell if it came from the chilly air or watching her husband throw on a cloak and leave without giving her a second thought.

With a pale, shaking hand she brushed the blonde curls that framed her face behind her ears, as she began to descend. Her bare feet felt the shock as she stepped from the plush white carpeted stairs to the marble entry way. She went to the windows flanking the large oak front door and peered out, searching for any sign of Lucius. Of course, two foot prints trekked out about twenty feet away in the deep snow before disappearing from sight. Lucius never was one for walking when he could apparate.

Narcissa wrapped her ice cold arms around her small body and walked to the main room. She wondered what little whore he was going to today, leaving her own bed lonely.

With a steady hand she poured a glass full of brandy, knowing she'd be more than drunk by the end of it. With a wave of her long thin wand the stone fireplace burst in to flames crackling happily away.

Between the burn of the alcohol and the heat of the flames her icy skin began to thaw but it did nothing for her heart.

IIII

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" She hurried to wrap herself in a bathrobe.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

"Damn it all. I'm right here."

The door swung open with fury sending her long black hair flying.

"Well hello there, love. Is there something I can help you with?"

The scowl on her face seemed oddly familiar. His clear gray eyes pierced into hers and made her own green ones alight with pleasure.

"You must belong to Lucius." She smiled a long, slow smile.

"Apt of you to notice," the young man said, frowning at the beauty he stood before. "Where is he?"

"Not here. Is anything the matter?"

"Why would I be around looking for him if something weren't the matter?" Draco looked her up and down, thinking to himself how it was such a shame that such a beauty would be so dense. "Do you know where he might be?"

"Now just hold on, how did you know to look for him hear?"

"We're close." Draco said as he turned to leave.

Waste of time, he thought. He couldn't have helped hoping if his father would be somewhere it would be with this witch rather than the one he truly presumed he was with.

Eve watched the boy walk away, his shoulders slumped and his head hung low.

What was going on, she thought?

IIII 

"What the hell do you want?"

He smirked, feeling the fire run into his eyes as her dark eyes began to scowl.

"Seriously, Malfoy, I thought I'd be lucky enough never to see you again."

"Who would ever see you as lucky, Granger?" He leaned his tall body against the wooden door frame. "I'm here about Eve."

"About Eve? Well get it all out now."

"You're not going to invite me in?" He reached out and took one of her long brown curls in his fingers before letting it go watching it bounce back.

"Damn it, Malfoy. Why would I invite you in? Is something the matter with Eve?"

Hermione began to have the feeling that her friendship with Eve wasn't worth a quarter of the trouble it seemed to cause.

Lucius began to unhook his cloak as he pushed his way in to her home.

"Really, get out. You're not welcome in my home."

He lunged at her, withdrawing his wand and pointing it at her throat.

"Do you want to take a second shot at that?"

Her brown eyes grew large and fiery.

With his eyes locked on hers, he let the hand he held at her throat release before turning.

Perhaps this wasn't your wisest idea, Lucius, he thought.

"If you don't tell me why you're here-"

"You dare to presume threatening me?"

"I'm not threatening you Malfoy. For God's sake, just tell me what you're doing here."

Hermione paced the small space in front of the door, purely to give her body something to do. Her body was beginning to shake unnaturally, utterly confused as to why Lucius Malfoy would yet again be at her home when the very last time he had kissed her in a away that made her knees shake and her heart beat inexplicably fast.

He saw her eyebrows knitted together and her hands at her sides opening and fisting again as she paced, refusing to look at him. The act itself put a smile on his face to watch her become so unnerved at his presence.

"I don't believe the two of you should become so close," Lucius said, sitting in the gray armchair kept near the fireplace.

"What say have you in Eve's choice of friends?"

"Honestly, none. That's why I came to you. She deserves to surround herself with people of equal stature." He let the words slip from his mouth slowly to wait and gauge her reaction.

A fire burned in her chest. His pure presence angered her, but to know that the real reason for his sudden attention was to make her feel miserable, as if it were sport.

"Whatever. If it means to have you out of my life, fine," Hermione said, tucking her brown curl behind her ear, knowing inside she lied through her teeth. If it means he'll leave, she thought.

With relief, she saw him rise out of the corner of her eye.

His footsteps were quick, unnecessarily fast as he came at her. Her pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her body.

With fear suddenly filling up her throat, burning the tears back from her eyes. With the dullest of senses she felt his wand tip pointed between her ribs.

"You wouldn't be lying, would you?" He moved his head closer to hers, pressing his forehead to hers so that her eyes became one in his vision. "Not even a stupid mudblood like yourself would be so dense as to lie to me, would you Granger?" He paused, looking at her face, watching how she pursed her mouth together out of defiance. "No, you're smart for your kind."

In the back of her mind the pain of what he had said scorched inside of her. Without thinking of anything beyond the pain he was causing her, she took the spittle in her mouth and spewed it out so violently that when it landed on his cheek specks of it flew back at her own face, so close to his own.

"_Crucio_!"

Her body lurched around brutally. He held her squirming shaking form to his as he tortured her. Drool came out of her mouth and dribbled down her chin as her head swiveled on her neck grotesquely.

What felt like hours to her poor tortured form was possibly only thirty seconds.

"Apologize."

There was no sympathy in his voice.

"Never."

With greater force, again her body began to convulse. Mentally she could think nothing but the fear that this would be it. No longer would she see the ones she loved because how could a person live through such horrific pain? unexpectedly, the pain ceased and a strange tingly, numbness coursed through her veins sublimely healing the horror of what she'd just experienced. Her body dropped from his and fell to the floor where she stayed, still as a corpse, with her face pressed to the cool, hardwood floor.

"Why are you doing this?" her voice was rickety, unsure.

"You need to learn your place, mudblood. I feel it is my personal responsibility to the wizarding community to show you where you belong."

With a painful turn of her neck she looked up into his blue eyes, and saw no ice but heat that she feared more than the tip of his wand.

"Come Granger, stand. Do you really want to remember this moment as the time you couldn't even stand up to me on your own two feet?"

With her hands flexing open, she pressed them to the ground.

A chill ran down his back as he watched her attempt to stand in her weakened condition.

She heard a laugh, purely wicked, burst from his lips. It iced her weak muscles giving her the strength to move to first her knees and then slowly, with the help of the mantle over the fireplace, to her feet.

"I knew you were strong." He magicked a glass of water and waved it in front of her face. "I also know how deeply thirsty you must be. You throat hot with the tears you must be holding back."

Hermione looked at him in disgust and then looked at the glass of water. With nothing but pain of her dry throat in mind, she reached for the glass forgetting her pride.

Again, as she pressed the cool, clear glass to her lips, felt the iced water trickle down her sore throat, she heard his fiendish laugh. She swore to herself at that moment that she would never forgive him not for the pain he caused but for the emotional havoc he'd wreaked.

"So have we reached an agreement that you and Eve are to no longer be friends?"

"Yes." Her voice was pitiful and weak, unable to keep the tears at bay much longer.

Lucius went to her then. Taking his left hand he dipped two fingers into the ice water she held like a shield between them and pressed the two dripping fingers to her pulse points along her throat.

"Relax," he said, tipping her chin to face him. "Just a friendly chat."

With her chin still firmly in his grasp he lowered his lips to hers and ever so slightly brushed them against hers.

"I'm glad we took the time to do this," Lucius said, pulling away. "Maybe we'll-"

"FATHER!" THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. "Father, I know you're in there!" The pounding on the door began to shake the house and Lucius pushed away from Hermione violently as the realization that he'd been caught in a mudblood's home flooded his mind.

"Open the goddamn door!" Draco's voice hovered in the air, staling the oxygen between them. "I will blow the door away if you don't open it!" He screamed, pounding ever the more fervently.

"Just open the door Malfoy, he already knows you're hear." Hermione said looking not at Lucius, but at the pool of water in the glass she held.

Slowly and cautiously Lucius twisted the knob, and opened the door the demonstrated a flourish more than he felt.

"Can I help you, Draco?"

"Father, what are you doing at this mudblood's home?"

"Last time I recalled, I did not need to explain myself to you."

"It doesn't matter either way," Draco began, looking around his father, taking in the situation around the room that he had found Lucius and Hermione. "You have to come back to the Manor immediately."

"Draco, do not deduce that you can tell me what to do." Lucius, though already heartily embarrassed, felt anger boiling in his veins at his own son marching in and commanding him to do anything.

"Father, You don't understand. You have to come home." Draco looked anxiously around Lucius at Hermione who stood with her back to them both at the mantle still unmoving, except for the slow lift of the glass to her lips.

"And why is that?"

"It's- it's just very important."

"Draco Malfoy, I will come home when I goddamn please. You're presence is unnecessary. Leave at once."

"No. It's mother. You must come home." His voice held a hidden plea that his cold, gray eyes betrayed. "Please."

The statement was so simple and without looking directly in his eyes, Lucius would have missed it altogether. Something was amiss.

"Your mother?" Lucius didn't say another word. The look that his son had given him was enough to know that what ever he wasn't brave enough to say in the mudblood's presence was enough to display panic in his eyes.

IIII


	18. A Mystic Communion

Chapter 18: A Mystic Communion

Her pale, lithe feet hung, swinging in the air.

Draco stood against the wall, looking not up, but at the gray marble, avoiding the ghastly sight.

Lucius reached up his right hand and massaged the middle toe of her left foot.

"How could you just leave her here?" Lucius looked away from his lovely wife. "Have you no respect for your mother?"

"I'm sorry that the moment I walked into our home, when I see my mother hanging from the chandelier and my first thought isn't, 'well, better clean this up'."

"No need for sarcasm, Draco. Now is not the time."

With eyes hot with emotion, he just stood, almost in shock watching her sway eerily in the draftless entry way.

"Well, are you going to take her down?" Draco asked, the hot tears burning his throat.

"Of course." Lucius took out his wand and cut the blue silk scarf she hanged herself with. Her limp, fragile body tumbled into his outstretched arms, landing with a light thud but she, herself, made no noise.

Slowly, gently he laid her down on the sofa in the den.

"Where is your aunt?"

"I'll go find her," Draco said, halfheartedly, mostly just pleased to get away from his mother dead body.

Lucius looked down at Narcissa. Her face, surprisingly more pale than in life. Her hair was askew from having the scarf, now the noose, tightly around her neck for so long. taking his finger, he trailed it around her face, across her closed eyelids, along her still pink lips. Though he no longer loved her the way he had the day he'd first noticed her lively, nimble form in the stone halls of Hogwarts, his heart still ached for the woman he'd spent the better part of almost thirty years with day after day.

He'd first fallen in love with her angelic blue eyes when he was fifteen.

Yet, somehow, in a way he could no better explain than his fifteen year old counterpart could, that light, the fire, the innocence slowly bled out of her eyes, her soul, until she was nothing but a shell of the beauty he had worshipped as a young man.

"Father?"

Lucius stood up briskly, not wanting that secret moment to be tread upon by no one.

"Yes?"

"I found Auntie Bella. She's up in your bathroom crying hysterically."

"Oh for the love of peace, why in hell can't she pull herself together?" Lucius felt the anger boiling inside, seeping over the welling emotions he had.

"I think- I think mother… I believe she left a suicide note."

Lucius glared at his son, wanting nothing more than to slap him senseless for not only stuttering over a simple sentence but for not bringing forth that kind of information sooner.

How can this be any son of mine?

Lucius started for the grand staircase.

Draco stood over his mother, her face almost peaceful, lying on the sofa.

He knelt beside her body.

She could almost be sleeping, he thought.

Taking her hand in his, he brought the cold fingers to his lips and began to cry for his lost mother.

IIII

"Bella?" Lucius masked his anger in a curious tone as he softened his steps upon the approach of the bathroom.

He could hear her racking sobs all the way up the stairs.

"Bella."

It was a statement.

No question in his voice as he witnessed the mess that had become his sister-in-law.

She knelt on the ground on the black bathroom rug rocking to and fro over a scatter of pages. Her body shook and convulsed as if under a curse.

"She's gone.

She's left me in this hellhole.

My other half.

My precious sister.

Because of you she's left me."

"Is that what she's written?"

He approached cautiously, he feared she'd break.

"She wrote that and more! She said that she knew you didn't love her. She knew! She lamented over your women. She feared it was me who truly had your heart."

Lucius fought the urge to laugh.

In Bellatrix' wildest dreams.

"Is that all?"

"All?! She said she thought Draco was lost to her, sunk under your spell of wickedness. Those were her exact words!" She began to cry again. Fat, black drops dribbled down her cheeks from her mascara covered eyes.

"Let me see it." He whispered it calmly.

"No! She left it for me. For her sister. Not her adulterous husband!" She grabbed the papers, clutching them in her fists.

Lucius went her rapidly, grabbing her by the shoulders.

With quick, steady hands he shook her about, jostling her neck and watched her head bounce about.

"Bella, calm yourself. You have to stop this."

She gasped for breath, gulping large dramatic breaths that filled her lungs, shooting oxygen straight to her brain.

"That's it, love."

Her convulsions began to resolve. Her body became almost as limp as the corpse below, except for the rapid, quivering breathes in and out.

Lucius held her steady with his strong, wide hands. He pulled her to him and placed her forehead against his chest, kissing the crown of her head gently. He kept her that way for a good long while. Letting her body relax into his.

Without much effort, he pulled her whole body onto his lap, cradling her still form to his and he rocked her.

Silent tears still seeped from the creased corners of her closed eyelids.

She was asleep.

Lucius rose, not struggling beneath her weight and laid her gently upon the large bed in the adjacent bedroom.

She did not wake.

IIII

The words were not clear.

He could not tell whether that was from Bella's tears or Narcissa's.

Though he struggled a bit, the meaning was simple.

"I blame you, Lucius, as I have loved you. Strongly, fiercely, with a passion."

He sat at his desk, in the study with only but two candles burning around him.

The door to the office was locked.

The silence in the Manor screamed in his mind.

"I know that once you loved me, equally, if not more.

But as you pulled to the dark arts, you pulled from me.

I followed you- I followed Bellatrix, because I had no choice fore I loved you each that to not follow meant to be alone.

I regret nothing of this."

Lucius almost wanted to laugh at this. Narcissa, he thought, do not blame me for my interest in the dark arts. You know as well as I do, it was your family that pulled me.

"I promise you this, I have loved Draco as intensely as I loved you. I hope that, though he is a good man today, he will be a better one without you."

Lucius pushed the parchment pages from him.

It went on and on, blaming him for things that he could control as well as he could control the seas. She swore that she'd always loved him and that it was he who turned away from it.

Lucius knew this to be false.

He had worshipped her day and night for years, even as he dove further into the dark arts. But slowly, almost unnoticeably by anyone but himself, that luminosity he had adored and praised her for had gone out and she became almost nothing but a body that could walk and talk.


	19. Keep You From Love

Chapter 19: Keep You From Love

The wind was stronger that day.

He'd pulled his hair back with a black ribbon, identical to the one he'd tied morosely around his upper right arm.

He held the urn loosely in his arms.

It didn't feel right, standing there on what felt like the edge of the world, watching the waves carry the ocean in.

"Father, it's time."

"Draco, you do not control me. I will say when it is time." He cradled the urn closer.

Draco looked nervously around him.

"The crowd is getting anxious."

"What crowd? There are no more than fifteen people here."

Lucius didn't even look over his shoulder.

He could feel the sun extending the shadows to his back as the sun rose in the east.

It was pitiful the group that had caught word of Narcissa's death and come to mourn.

There were so few left strong in their cause that they felt it safe to come out of hiding for even death. There had been so many deaths amongst them they knew it would not be the last.

With the new regime if they hadn't renounced their old ways, they were probably still in Azkaban, in hiding, or dead themselves.

"I'm sorry Cissa. You deserve better than a dawn funeral with so few grieving in your wake."

He felt the sun beginning to beat against his face and he began to realize it was almost spring.

He lifted the lid on the urn.

"Patience, Draco."

He felt his son fidget on his heels.

Lucius closed his eyes.

He smelt the sea, the salt stinging his nose.

With his eyes closed he emptied the urn into the ocean.

The slight breeze off the cliff drifted the ashes down into the water.

With a deep breath he turned on his heel and walked away from the edge.

IIII

"Firewhiskey."

Five seconds past.

"Eve! Firewhiskey!"

"It's on its way, Malfoy." She leaned back over the table she'd been wiping down and continued her work.

She felt the piercing pain in her back.

"Damn it. Lucius I said I'd get it."

"Eve, I don't care what you've said. You will get it _now_."

"And why, pray tell, would I do anything that you request in _that_ tone?"

"Eve, I _can_ and I _will_ make you hurt."

"Oh please, Lucius," Eve said, spinning around to face him. "I love it when you talk dirty to me." She raised her eyebrows and smiled her wickedest.

"_Eve_!"

"Alright, alright. Coming right up."

Eve took her wand from her apron pocket and without breaking eye contact, magicked a glass of firewhiskey into her other awaiting hand.

"Here you go, love. Can I get anything more for you?"

"No." He pulled the chair from the table and sat down. "Now, go away."

Eve was fuming.

She turned and walked away, giving him just was he wanted.

IIII

"Granger… I know your there. Waiting on the other side of this door. You heart is pounding out of your chest. I can hear it…"

He pressed his wand tip to the door, tracing the wood markings.

"Granger, open the door.

I'm trying to be polite.

You know I don't need to ask your permission."

The lock clicked into place.

"Now, now. I heard that. You aren't being very friendly, mudblood."

Silence.

"_Alohomora_."

The lock clicked back.

"I need only to turn the knob."

Her gasp was muffled by the hand over her mouth.

He heard it despite her efforts.

Lucius placed his hand on the door knob.

"Aghhh!"

Pulling his hand away, he felt it throbbing.

"You dare burn me?"

He blew on his hand. The current of air cooled the burn.

"_Bombarda_!"

Her scream resounded around the room.

"Calm yourself. Don't you know you have neighbors?"

She lay on the ground, crouching behind a chair, away from the leveled wreckage.

"_Impedi_--!"

"_Expelliarmus_!"

She pointed her wand straight at his heart before it flew from her fingers.

"At least you put up a fight. I like a woman with a little fight in her."

He pointed his wand at the disheveled door, putting it back on its hinges. Her wand he placed in his coat pocket.

"_Crucio_!"

She wreathed and panted on the floor, her throat constricted with the pain, terrible gasping noises driven out of her.

"I know it hurts, Mudblood. Remember, pain is a fleeting digression."

Her body stayed motionless. She drew great, wheezing breaths, filling her lungs with the cool air.

"There, there. The pain is already fading. I see it in your eyes."

"Why are you doing this? What do you want with me?"

Lucius laughed as he sank into the nearest arm chair.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his outstretched knees.

"Maybe, after we know each other a little better I'll tell you."

Hermione lifted herself off the floor on her elbows, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

"In an attempt to get to know each other, tell me, Granger, what do you like to do to amuse yourself?"

Hermione looked up. Her brown eyes swam as he looked into his blue, piercing ones.

"Hmm?"

She didn't answer.

"Come now. Don't be so juvenile. If we can't be friends, we might as well be pleasant to one another."

She narrowed her eyes, glaring daggers. Saliva flew from her mouth in Lucius' direction.

"Oh dear, you will pay for that."

She barely had time to take a breath before she was on her back reeling from the throbbing that emitted from her whole body.

"Tsk. Tsk. It isn't nice to ignore a guest. Did your mother teach you no manners at all? Now, what is it you do to amuse yourself?"

He knelt down beside her, lifting her sore frame so that she sat upright, her perspiring face opposite his.

"In my spare time I enjoy plotting your demise, Malfoy."

She spit the words as if they were poison.

Lucius took his hands and wrapped them both around Granger's neck.

She struggled to breathe.

"You can do what you please. You have free will. But by the time I'm done with you, you will do _only_ my will."

He worked his hands from around her throat to grip in her hair. She pulled and twisted until she let out a gasp of pain.

Lucius took a deep breath, watching her eyes widen in her struggle. She raised her hands from her sides, clenching them into fists. She pounded on his chest, striking hard, powerful blows. She fought to keep her balance as he didn't fight back but only twisted her neck harder. She battered firmly, working her way up to his face. She began to slap him, her open palm connecting with his white skin.

He couldn't help it.

Something about the way she looked…

Lucius bent her neck up, keeping his eyes locked on hers before he pressed his lips against the base of her throat.

She breathed heavily in disgust. Her fists beating his broad shoulders like drums.

He wretched her head only further as he worked his way from her neck to her jaw line, ignoring her.

A single tear dribbled down her cheek.

The tear connected with his lips.

Moving his tongue along his lips he tasted it.

He tasted the sorrow and the ache she felt.

It was too much for him.

He forced his lips against her mouth, bearing down.

She grunted into his mouth.

The moment her lips were opened, he found the space inside and tasted that too.

"_Crucio_," he breathed into her mouth.

Once more, her body thrashed about, her cries of pain struggling to be released.

"Remember, if I desire it, you will do it."


	20. Haunting Me

Chapter 20: Haunting Me

With a pain so great, she forced her eyes to open, expecting bright sunlight to blind her. None came. It was dank and dark and smelled a bit of mildew in the old room. She lay on a bed, under the coverlet of a faded pink lace. Hermione imagined the fabric had once been soft but not it was rough with rare use. She let her eyes take a quick evaluation of the room itself. She did not have any idea where she was, but fear swelled up in her chest immediately. The closed door not ten feet away was enormous in size and she surmised it must be extremely heavy since it looked made of strong oak. The walls were bare except for peeling wallpaper showing soft pink flowers like the ones on the lace coverlet. Directly opposite the bed there sat an empty stone fireplace, dirty and dark as though it hadn't been used for many years. There was a small window on the opposite wall of the door but the curtains, thick, dusty curtains were pulled tight. She sat up slowly in the bed and felt her body ache from head to toe. She didn't want to move but she forced herself out of panic of where she was. She couldn't remember how she'd gotten there and she feared the worst.

She was alone and shivering with apprehension and cold in an unknown place. Not knowing what else to do Hermione looked around the room upon the nightstand to see if her wand was there. Nothing. Under the bed, she peered, her hair falling all around her face. Nothing. She was unarmed. She walked to the window briskly and attempted to open the curtains but they shocked her as if a barrier unseen with the eye was holding her at bay from even touching the curtains to look for the sun. Slowly, Hermione reached out her hand and attempted it again. Her fingers reached the point of the barrier and once more the electric like waves flew threw her body burning the tips of her fingers. She pulled back and gasped in pain.

There was nothing left in the dark room to examine except the door. She approached it cautiously, knowing that if the curtains themselves were magicked the chances of the door were low in her favor. She grabbed the coverlet and pulled it from the bed using the fabric as a wrap around her left right hand before she reached out to touch the knob. She made contact with the knob easily, no shock came, not even a heat emanated from it. The knob was like ice but it would not turn. It was obviously locked from the outside. Shivers once more rode up Hermione's spine.

The whole room was like ice. She had realized how cold she was. She looked down and noticed that she just wore the jeans and sweater of before but they were dirty as though someone had dragged her here. She grunted in disgust, knowing there wasn't much to do about it at that point. She pulled the dusty old coverlet up off the floor and wrapped herself in it and paced the floor attempting to get warm. Didn't whoever it was that brought her here have any heat?

IIII

She woke up again on the bed, her body no longer wrapped in the blanket but no longer freezing either. A fire roared in the fireplace across the bed, shedding light and heat to every corner of the room. She sighed with relief. She tried to sit up when she noticed that her arms were held against the headboard as though tied there with an invisible rope.

"If the miss wouldn't move, it is better." A small and feebly squeaky voice came from the doorway as it slid open with ease.

Hermione didn't speak, out of fear or curiosity as a small house elf, the smallest she probably ever saw, walked into the room, her soft feet padding the carpeted floor. She carried with her a large tray upon which sat a silver bowl, covered. The house elf made its way to the bedside table and made a small grunt as she lifted the tray high enough the be placed on the table.

"Who are you? Where am I?" Hermione asked finally feeling the questions escape her.

"I is Plunket, house elf to my masters." The small elf curtseyed politely, the dirty white towel she had wrapped around her body as a dress touching the ground.

"Who are your masters?" Hermione asked, struggling against the invisible bonds.

"You is not able to get free until I leave, miss." The big, round brownish hazel eyes that stared back at Hermione looked forlorn and afraid as she wretched herself against the ropes.

"I asked you a question, Plunket. Who are your masters?" Hermione stopped struggling and watched the house elf's eye grow large with dismay.

"You is not my mistress, miss, I won't say my masters' names. They would be angry if I did, miss. I is sorry I cannot help you." With that she turned from Hermione and walked to the open door, not bothering to close it behind her. With renewed zest she struggled against the bonds, watching the open door with curiosity and the chance at freedom. Knowing the bonds were magical she knew logically that she would not be free but she would hate herself if she didn't struggle.

"Here you go, miss." Plunket said, walking back into the room with a long piece of silky pink fabric slung over her arms with a velvet box in her hand. "Master says you is to wash with the water and soap in the bowl miss, and then put these on." Plunket was now gesturing to the pink dress she was laying out on the food of the bed. "When I go, Miss, your bonds will be free. Master commanded you do this, miss. You must or you will be sorry, Master says. He said you will have one hour, miss. Do not be late or Master will be angry. Miss does not want to make my master angry." With that, she gave Hermione one more low curtsey, her large eyes looking saddest yet before she shuffled out of the room, the heavy oak door closing with a creak behind her. Within an instant Hermione's wrists were free and she pulled her arms down, stiff from being kept in the same position so long.

She massaged her wrists, noticing the faint signs of bruising about to develop from her own struggle against the ropes. Absentmindedly she lifted the cover off the silver bowl and saw water, hot, with steam rising from it and a balled up white cloth within it. She put the cover back down. She turned to the silky dress lying on the bed. Reaching out a finger she touched the fabric. It was the softest substance she had ever touched. It literally made her fingers glide over it, her hands never stopping. Excitement bubbled in her throat for the merest of seconds before she realized this was given to her to wear by her kidnapper. Disgust replaced the excitement, tasting quite the same as bile.

She turned back to the silver bowl and picked up the tray. She took it next to the fire so as she undressed and washed she wouldn't be cold. She wanted to disobey whoever had ordered these actions but Hermione did feel extremely dirty, the sweat sticking to her neck and the clothes she was wearing felt as if she'd worn them for days. She slowly undressed careful to fold up her belongings next to the fireplace and took the washrag from its basin; the water was hot but not too warm that it burned. It felt nice to wash her face, the steam rising from the water opening her pores slightly. Realizing she knelt naked over a bowl in an unknown room Hermione quickly washed the rest of her body before toweling off with the black fluffy towel that lay next to the bowl. Curiously, she noticed the depth of the bowl had not changed as she put the cloth back in. The water was still as warm as the moment she'd first touched it. The level hadn't changed and the small soap bubbles still glistened on top. Hermione tested by taking the bowl of water and tossing the liquid into the fire place. She replaced the silver bowl on the tray and sat amazed as it replenished itself automatically.

At first Hermione was suspicious. She hadn't seen an enchanted bowl like this before and looked around the room suspicious that a witch or wizard on the other side of the wall stood watching her, replenishing the liquid for their own amusement. This thought was quick to flit away though, once she considered the bowl could work the same way as the plate and goblets of Hogwarts where there was a duplicate in another room to replace what might have been taken out.

With this new thought, Hermione leaned over and dipped her curly mass of hair into the bowl, attempting to wash her hair albeit in a very boorish way. Once done she took the towel from around her midsection and toweled off her hair, careful to bunch the curls into place unless they might not form correctly. Reattaching the towel to her waist Hermione stood and replaced the tray with the silver basin back on the night stand.

Agitated, Hermione now turned to the pink dress. It wasn't quite pink but somewhere between a dark rose and a Victorian pink. Undecided, she stared at it in dismay. It was a dusty raspberry color. Taking the dress in her hands, she held it by the neckline, a plunging halter top. Hermione had never worn something so blatantly improper in her life. She supposed the plunging v-neck would end below her breasts at the top of her ribcage. The bottom of the v-neck was adorned with tiny white crystals all forming the shape of a Victorian lace pattern that went below her breasts all the way around toward the back. Turning the dress she saw that the back itself wasn't there. The bottom of the dress would sit just above her bottom, if not revealing it all together, and the Victorian waistband continued to adorn a small one inch thick strap that snapped into place around the back of her waist. Uncomfortable with the idea of putting on anything quite so revealing, Hermione put the dress down on the bed. She had yet to examine the box.

Sliding the velvet box across the bed she opened it to find within a pair of matching high heeled shoes. The toe of the shoes matched the adorned waist of the dress perfectly, and the color was spot on. Hermione lifted her right foot and tried on of them on. It slipped on her foot with ease; exactly her size. Shocked, Hermione took the left shoe and also slipped it on. They were comfortable and soft, the fabric the same as the dress on the outside but a structured warm leather on the inside. She'd never worn anything like them though Hermione herself boasted a large shoe collection. Leaving the shoes on, she turned back to the velvet box and found within another smaller box.

Clicking open the lid, Hermione sat shocked to see a diamond necklace, bracelet and earrings. Unlike any typical diamond necklace, these were as big as Hermione's eyes, round and circular shaped in an alternating pattern with pink sapphires. The bracelet was the same but on a smaller scale to the necklace. And the earrings, Hermione gasped when she saw the earrings. The earrings had large teardrop shaped diamonds hanging from slightly smaller perfectly round pink sapphires. They were absolutely gorgeous. Afraid of the magical properties that might adorn jewels in the magical world Hermione once more wrapped her hand in the coverlet before touching them. Nothing seemed to happen as she picked up each piece and examined them carefully.

With the slightest of ease, Hermione took the earrings one by one and hooked them into her pierced ears with ease. Nothing. With a slight mixture of suspicion and joy, Hermione took the necklace and bracelet and snapped them into place. They fit so perfectly as if they were worn by her a thousand times. She wished she had a mirror to look at herself. She doubted when she'd ever wear such jewels again.

Normally her manner towards such things was indifferent but she'd never seen anything like them. The excitement couldn't help but bubble inside of her. Maybe that was the power of the jewels she thought, aghast. She'd never felt this way about jewelry before let alone at a time when she was in a locked room where a kidnapper had placed her and wiped her memory of the last twenty four hours from her mind. She struggled with the jewels to take them off, aware now that they did have a chilling power over her. They would not budge. They were locked into place. Hermione concentrated on overcoming the giddy feeling in her belly that they gave her.

Knowing her time was short, Hermione looked back at the dress. She'd have to put it back on if Plunket had been correct in saying that she'd be sorry were she not ready within the time limit. She still had not a clue whom her capturer would be but she feared that angering him or her before she figured out who they were and what they wanted would be worse than taking their wrath after.

Hermione unclipped the attachment at the neck on the halter and the attachment on the lower back that wrapped around her waist before she eased the dress down over her body. It fit like a glove. It was as if the dress was made for her body alone. It curved along her hips down to the floor, with just an inch above the ground to see the matching slippers peek out from beneath. She clicked the lower back snap into place and the one around her neck beneath her hair. The fabric lay against her body softly, whispering into the empty room with every move she made. Well, she thought, now I'm ready.

She took the extra time she had to think over who her kidnapper could be. After the war and the end of Voldemort, the trio had gone their own ways, in doing so she hadn't spoken to them except for the odd Christmas card or running into them in the street. She had known that at some point in the year following the dark lord's demise Harry and Ginny had married, probably bringing a few new babies since then. And Ron, well, she'd seen him occasionally at the ministry but they'd fallen out. Hermione had known since they'd been children that once Voldemort wasn't there to hold them together nothing really could. She was the one that lifted right out of the group, unconnected but by their search to defeat Him, the glue that had held them together, and graduating from Hogwarts, well… there really wasn't much left. They'd all changed so much. But though she was alone it didn't mean she didn't know what was going on in the magical world.

Her work at the Ministry had shown her that many Death Eaters were still at large though they denied any connection to Voldemort. It was possible that one of them had captured her in an attempt to show a final rebellion. Hermione didn't really have any idea. For the merest of seconds Hermione's mind lingered on Sean, her ex-boyfriend who had been quite distraught when she'd broken up with him. The man was pure scum and she couldn't help but think that after trying to force himself on her he might kidnap her as well. But no, he wasn't smart enough to pull something like this.

Suddenly, as if the lights had just come on, she remembered something. Plunket. Plunket was her key. She remembered meeting Plunket once before. Not formally or anything but had seen her in passing, not too long ago. It was a shock that the realization hadn't come any sooner to Hermione. She mentally chastised herself for keeping her eyes closed and not thinking clearly about where she was. She was quite ashamed. Her seventeen year old self would have figured it all out in moments but it had taken Hermione all day.

With a gasp, she noticed the large oak door was opening. Plunket stood at the door, a small space between her and the world beyond.

"You is to come with me, miss. I will take you to my master." Plunket curtseyed again and pushed the door open a little wider for Hermione to slip through. "You is not to run, or bad things will happen, miss. Please… please do not run. Master will not like it. Please, please my master and you will not be punished." Plunket began to lead the way occasionally looking back at Hermione, as she walked lithely behind the house elf, slowing her pace for the small creature. "And if I may say so, miss, you look very beautiful in the dress master chose for you. My master has a good eye for these things." Plunket gave her an awkward smile and then began taking the steps, at the end of a long hallway.

The house elf took the steps slowly, holding onto the railing tightly as though afraid of heights. Hermione walked slowly behind her. She took in her surroundings with ease, memorizing every door and corner should she need to run. Hermione now knew where she was and had but a fleeting moment of fear. At the bottom of the staircase, Plunket turned and looked up at her again.

"Miss will go alone from here. Walk straight to the door over there," she gestured to closed doorway at the end of a long hallway. "From there you will meet my master. Please do not run, miss. Be kind and my master will surely reward you." Plunket curtseyed a final time before backing into the shadowy wall behind her to watch Hermione as she walked the long hallway, her long silk dress waving as she did.

The door at the end of the hall was cracked open the tiniest bit. Hermione stopped in front of the door and listened to what was on the other side. Silence. There wasn't a sign of anything at all. Hermione pushed the door ever so slightly. It sung gracefully into place revealing a large room. Directly in front of her sat a dark green plush sofa, facing a fireplace as tall as she. It cast an eerie glow about the room and warmed it generously.

Hermione took a step into the room and looked to her right. About five feet from the sofa and fireplace sat a long elegantly set table of dark cherry wood. Hermione counted eight chairs around the elongated table, three on each side and one at each end. It was stylishly set with two large silver candelabras, each about a foot from each head seat, burning long tapered candles five on each candelabra. Stepping further into the room she felt safe in assuming she was alone for the time being. She stepped toward the middle of the room, closer to the table and noticed that the table was set for only two, each charger plate sat atop dark green satin placemats, with silver lace edging. Turning her gaze from the table Hermione looked at the walls around her noticing a few pictures and portraits hanging on the walls, or sitting perched on the odd table here and there. Hermione stepped forward and looked at a painting, large at least six feet tall, which hung behind the table. It was a picture of a family. It was of mother and father and a son; each as beautiful as the next.

They all stared heavily, unsmiling from their frame. The woman, tall and sleek, stared, piercing Hermione with her gaze, occasionally she would shake her voluminous curly blonde head and the curls would bounce evenly about, settling on her shoulders. The son sneered at her unpleasantly and Hermione felt a strong revulsion at the sight of him, his grey eyes filled with hatred and disgust. She let her eyes wander to the man in the picture. He who was most likely her kidnapper stared back, unchanging his even gaze. His broad shoulders took up the majority of the picture, he looked imposing and dangerous all the while his eyes peered into hers as though he would jump down from the frame. Each held their wands across their hearts evenly. None moved their eyes from her watching face. None said a word or moved other than their eyes and occasionally the slight tilt of their head. Too eerie for Hermione, but unable to turn away she stared at the painting, examining each face in turn but strangely caught and enamored by the man in the middle, the most imposing of the three.

"Do you admire it?" His thick drawl came not from the painting but from the entryway behind her. She didn't turn instantly but felt her heart beat quicken at finally meeting him. She swallowed the bubble of anger and loathing that gurgled in her throat. She wished to turn and hex him but she was wandless and alone. She had no defense against this obviously strong wizard. "It was painted before my wife's death." She could hear his soft, almost silent steps as he made his way further into the room until she could smell his strong scent directly behind her.

"Why am I here?" She could manage no more than a slight whisper.

She jumped as she felt him touch her. The tip of his fingers running smoothly against her back, down further to the hem of her dress positioned so perilously close to her bum.

"What did you say?" He asked his voice soft as well, lowered to the level of hers. She felt the beating of her heart increase in fear. She could not speak. The terror of knowing what this man was capable of was enough to silence her. Slowly, berating herself for being so horribly weak, Hermione made herself swallow the lump that had formed in her throat and turn to face her capturer.

"I said," finally she spoke, looking him straight in his grey blue eyes. "Why am I here?" Whether he could tell by other means or not, Hermione knew her voice would not betray her in her terror.

"There is no need to jump straight to that. You must be hungry. I've had Plunket prepare a meal for us." He didn't break eye contact with her. He was close enough to touch her. Hermione couldn't decide whether to back away or if such a move would show fear.

At the sound of her name, Plunket entered pushing a tray with an assortment of meat, potatoes and vegetables across the way. She began to take each dish off the rolling tray and place it on the table silently. When she finished she curtseyed low.

"You may leave." Lucius' voice was cold and didn't even bother to turn and look at how admiringly the house elf peered back up at him before rolling the tray back out of the room and closing the door behind her. Lucius grabbed Hermione by the elbow and jerked her toward the table. He sat her down in the chair facing the ghostly painting. He, himself, walked around the table until he sat opposite her. "I would like some wine," he stated simply. "Pour it." He gestured toward the bottle in the middle of the table.

Hermione could do nothing but glower at him from across the way.

"I will not."

"Oh but you shall." He said it with finality before he whipped out his was and pointed at her. "Pour the wine, Mudblood." He spit the words as if it were poison. Again, she shook her head, ignoring his command. She eyed his wand with great fear but she knew he would only cause her physical pain. "_Imperio_!" a jet of light shot out at her and before she knew it a sense of calm and peace washed over her.

A voice deep in her mind spoke to her. _Pour the wine_, it said. In her calm state Hermione surmised no reason why she shouldn't. She stood from her chair and walked to the bottle of wine. With the neck of the bottle grasped tight in her hand, another voice whispered, her own voice. _Don't do it Hermione. He's tricking you_. She remembered in her fourth year in their defense against the dark arts course how the fake mad-eye Moody had used the unforgivable curse on them attempting to teach them how to fight it off. She shook her head at the voices obviously confused as to what she should do next. Should she pour the wine, or shouldn't she? Logically she could see no reason as to why not and the sense of calm enveloped her mind, forcing her hand down, pouring the wine into his glass. She walked to her own seat and poured her own glass before placing the bottle down.

As if waking from a dream, she found herself seated once more and each glass, his goblet and her own were full of dark red wine. She was fuming.

"How dare you use me to do your bidding?" She screeched, scooting her chair back from the table and standing. She was furious and angry at herself for giving in.

"Sit." His command was simple. She did not. "You dare refuse again?" She glared back at him her brown eyes alight with anger. "_Imperio_!"

Once more the calmness enveloped her and the voice in her mind, sounding suspiciously like Lucius' deep drawl advised her, _sit_, it said. And so she did. Once more she awoke from her dream like state, angry and found her sitting self once more. The disappointment in herself was insurmountable. She remembered so well how she had once fought the curse off. But years of not practicing had led her to where she was now; sitting feet from Lucius Malfoy doing exactly what he bid her to.

She looked across the table at him, her eyes welling with tears out of fear and anger. He sat smirking at her, the glass of wine slowly being brought to his lips. With a wave of his wand he had the food dispersed to each plate.

"You may eat and drink." He said, putting his own goblet down and moving his hand toward his fork. She did not move. She sat there, like a child, her arms crossed over her well exposed body, frowning, attempting to fight back the growing tears in her eyes.

"Stop." He didn't even bother to look up from his plate as he said so. Her belly growled hungrily. "You're starving. You haven't eaten anything all day." He stated the facts and she looked down at the plate of food. She was quite hungry. He wasn't forcing her to eat. He was offering it to her.

With resignation she picked up her own fork and knife and began to cut a small piece off the roast beef upon her plate. She raised it to her mouth ever so slowly, conquering her own willpower to do so. It tasted like heaven to her. She hadn't realized before just how hungry she had been. She enjoyed the taste; albeit she admitted to herself it was slightly ruined knowing that across from her sat Lucius. She took another bite, and another. The potatoes, mashed and spiced to perfection were soft and velvety against her tongue. She didn't look up but began hungrily shoving food into her mouth, not caring for niceties or anything of that sort. She was a hostage and she was starving.

When she finished she grabbed the goblet of wine and drank it. First she swallowed a large gulp, and felt the burn of the alcohol all the way down. She then began to sip the wine, enjoying the flavor of that too. She felt odd, suddenly. She began to wonder if he'd poisoned her. Though why would he bring her here just to poison her with food and wine? No, it was merely the odd feeling of enjoying something, only the best food and wine she might ever have tasted, in the presence of Lucius. She put the wine goblet down.

"Now that we've eaten and drunk," he said, placing his own silver fork gingerly upon his plate before rising. "We can have a little chat." He walked delicately over to her, his wand in hand again. She looked up at him in fear. "Don't be afraid, Mudblood. If you do as I say, you shouldn't be hurt." His voice was velvety but threatening all the same. She shivered. "Are you cold?" he asked, catching her shiver. "Perhaps you would be warmer near the fire." His civility unnerved her.

He once more took her by the elbow and jerked her up out of her chair and pushed her toward the sofa and the fire. She stumbled in the shoes she was wearing before catching herself and walking forward. She went and stood in the far corner near the warm, blazing fire before turning back to him, uncertain she should keep her back to him for long. He was watching her. Something about the look he was given her was disarming. He gazed at her body, uncaring of how uncomfortable it made her. She wrapped her arms around her chest once more.

"No need to cover yourself. Were you not a mudblood, I would say you would be quite ravishing." He smirked in a way that made her feel positively naked. She felt exposed and manipulated, standing in front of him in such a manor. "Are you unaware of how you look?" he waved his wand, conjuring a mirror out of thin air. The mirror was as tall as she and floated over to her with ease. It stopped two feet from her and he watched as she admired herself in the mirror.

Hermione hadn't had the chance to see herself in the clothes he had chosen for her but the color was just right to bring out the soft pink undertones of her skin. She was right in assuming the dress had fit her like a glove, each curve emulated by the fabric perfectly. Her eyes bulged slightly as she noticed the jewels hanging around her throat and from her ears. The same giddy feeling as before jumped in her belly before she squashed it. She looked away from the mirror.

"I don't care how you've dressed me, Malfoy. I want to go home." She fought the urge to stomp her foot defiantly.

"I am afraid that will be quite impossible at this time." He stepped toward her quickly. He waved his wand and the mirror disappeared. Hermione backed up towards the wall out of fear. "Yes, were you not who you are, you would be quite lovely. Unfortunately making you into something you are not is quite impossible." Lucius shook his blonde hair, now tied with a simple green ribbon over his shoulder as he reached out his hand to her. She recoiled in disgust. "Now now, let's be nice." She stood frozen in fear, the look upon her face one of pure terror.

For some reason odd images of Lucius himself standing over her, kissing her, touching her overwhelmed her senses as she seemed to remember moments like this one before. She closed her eyes and struggled over each image. Only they almost all took place in her own cottage. He'd hit her once too. She remembered that. It was like his memory charm had backfired and now she saw with open eyes all that had passed before.

"You're remembering, mudblood," he said, fingering her necklace, rolling the diamonds and sapphires through his fingers with ease until his fingers made contact with her own hot skin. "I've obliviated your memory fairly strongly over the past few days, removing any trace you might have of me. And yet, I see it in your eyes. The knowledge. The fear." He smiled widely at her, stepping still closer. "You have a strong mind it seems."

"What do you want with me Malfoy?" She asked, her voice growing stronger as she spit out his name.

"I told you once. Try and remember it." She struggled over the spliced up memories of her times with him. She could only remember rare seconds and moments. It was no use working over it mentally now. "Don't struggle. It'll come back with time." She turned her back on him, the tears once more welling in her eyes, she looked up to the ceiling to try to blink the tears back, trying her hardest to avoid them rolling down her cheeks in shame.

She felt his hands on her again. His warm skin touched hers. His fingers traced the lining of the dress slipping along the clip fastened along her lower back, he snapped it loose. His hand went lower fingering the edge of the dress resting on the very top of her bottom, her heart rate increasing exponentially as his hands left her skin and rounded over the fabric across her bum, tracing the curves of her, until he reached around her front, smoothing over her stomach. With painfully slow tracing fingers he kept his hands moving higher, higher until he cupped her breasts in his own hands until both hands were again on her skin, on her shoulders, rising, rising, until he had his hands around her neck giving a slight pressure until the necklace around her throat popped and fell to the floor.

"You aren't fit to wear the jewels of the Malfoy family," he whispered evilly into her ear. She turned her head in shame as his hands went to her ears and ripped the bauble earrings from them. Once more with his hands on her shoulders he whipped her body around so fast he had to wrap an arm around her waist to keep her standing on her feet, his own body pressed to hers for full support. He reached down with his right hand and unclipped the diamond bracelet she wore, letting it too, fall to the ground.

Without another moment delay his lips were on hers, forcing her neck back, forcing himself more fully into her mouth, using his body as a barrier. Her head hung limply, grotesquely as he used his left arm to arch upward and grasp her hair in a fist, his mouth never leaving hers. Her mind was working feverishly, confusion falling over her and she pushed against him uselessly. He was incredibly strong. He held her tight against him, his hand fisted tight in her hair, pulling it, his other hand holding her to him from her lower back. She couldn't fight; she just stood there, paralyzed in fear and confusion as his lips worked against hers. And then, in a frenzied moment he moaned and froze stock still against her. His own lips stopped working as he realized his mistake. He let her go completely and her body plunged inertly to the floor.

"_Crucio_!" He bellowed, pointed his wand to her. Her body began to shake and convulse; her head snapping this way and that in pain and horror. Her entire body felt like it was on fire from the inside out. It felt like forever when he finally raised his wand and her body stopped shaking, the fire slowly dying in her bones. "How dare you?" he asked, the anger no longer held back in voice. "You dirty mudblood!" he screamed, "_Crucio_!" Again her body shook angrily against the floor, the beads of sweat beginning to roll down her spine. Her head flopped horrifically around, her eyes clamped shut one moment but rolling around wildly the next. Once more the pain subsided.

Lucius turned his back on her for a moment to compose himself. "Pick it up," he said, his voice calm and drawling once more.

"Pick what up?" She asked, fearful of facing his wrath once more but defiant at knowing that something had struck a nerve with him.

"Pick of the jewels you dropped." His voice was stretched and spoken through a clenched jaw. Hermione looked about her and saw the necklace, earrings and bracelet lying on the floor. "Pick them _up_."

She looked up at him in shock. "I will not."

"Again then?" He pointed his wand at her.

She braced herself this time for the pain. She knew it would come. Instead the limp sort of calmness came over her. The voice, his voice in the back of her mind whispered for her to pick up the jewels. She grasped them in her hand, almost wishing this calm, empty feeling in her mind would go on forever. And then it was gone.

He wretched the jewels from her hands before he knelt down before her, his open palm connected with her cheek for good measure. The crack was enough to echo dully off the walls.

"Did I not tell you not too long ago that if I desire it, you will do it?" He raised himself off the floor and looked at her broken body before him in disgust. "I will break you, you damn mudblood."

He swept from the room and left her alone, her cold fingers held to her cheek like ice.


	21. Tread Lightly

Chapter 21: Tread Lightly

She wondered how long the memories would keep her awake. She lay in the bed with the tattered, old lace coverlet and she was ashamed.

She should be stronger. But then the images that had passed were forced before her eyes again.

_Without another moment delay his lips were on hers, forcing her neck back, forcing himself more fully into her mouth… Her head hung limply… his mouth never leaving hers... He was incredibly strong... She couldn't fight; she just stood there, paralyzed in fear and confusion as his lips worked against hers. And then, in a frenzied moment he moaned... He let her go completely and her body plunged inertly to the floor. _

"_Crucio!" He bellowed, pointed his wand to her…"Did I not tell you not too long ago that if I desire it, you will do it?... I will break you, you damn mudblood." _

Hermione closed her eyes tightly washing the images away with fresh tears before turning her back and burying her head against the pillow. With a few deep breaths she was calm again. _Be strong Hermione_, she thought. _You need to figure this out_. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Her only way to escape was to play his game, and if she could she must logically outwit him. She wanted to laugh. Outwit Lucius? Without a wand, without even her dignity left, Hermione had no weapon. _Except myself_, she thought.

IIII

More firewhiskey. It burned in a way that felt good and numbing all at the same time. He poured another glass, slopping some of it over the edge and heard it tinkle as it hit the table in his bedroom. He didn't care. He wanted nothing more than to drown himself in the bottle. He tasted her mouth. It was a taste he would never escape from. He grimaced at himself; his own disgust at actually wanting the taste of a mudblood on his tongue.

And yet, there it was again; not quite the same desire as before and still he felt it. He compressed the turnover in his belly by shooting down another glass of whiskey. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that no amount of alcohol would relieve him of this feeling.

_What are you doing? Why did you bring her here? _Questions flooded his mind, making him more uncomfortable. He shook his long mane of hair. _It is a game_, he assured himself, removing his outer robes and hanging them in the large wooden bureau against the far wall. He brought her here to play his old games. It'd been so long since he'd felt freedom enough to do something like this. _Not since the Dark Lord… aw_, he thought, _but that was something else entirely_.

He went back to the bottle of firewhiskey and replaced the top. Taking the glass in his hand he emptied the last few drops into his mouth before slamming that down next to the half empty bottle. _No need_, he thought, suddenly feeling more in control of himself once more.

It occurred to him rather abruptly. His plan began to formulate, each step set into a specific order. _It won't be easy,_ he thought. But did it really matter? Now that he had her here, he might as well have some fun with her. He'd made a slip and he'd be damn certain that mudblood would slip as well.

IIII

She couldn't sleep. She was disgusted with herself, letting her mind roll over the memory of the previous night with ease. It should be harder, she thought. She forced herself to think over the kiss again and again until it turned her stomach. Just as she leaned over the bed to retch up air, because she hadn't eaten since the previous night, the door opened.

"Plunket?" She looked up anxiously. The little elf did not enter.

"Don't bother getting up, Granger." His voice rang icy cold down her spine. He walked into the room, the door closing behind him automatically. Hermione froze in fear before composing herself once more, sitting up straight in the bed.

Lucius walked to the bedside table and placed upon it a silver tray with a plate of food. From what Hermione could see it held some eggs and toast. She turned her head away, attempting to block out the scent of the appetizing food. Lucius left the tray on the table and without giving her another glance he walked to the fireplace and lit it with his wand.

"So you've brought me here to be your hand maiden?" She asked sarcastically, her voice biting and formidable. Hermione smiled to herself, proud of being able to stand strong against him.

"No, no," Lucius said, turning back to her, looking at her sitting on the bed appraisingly. "There is quite a bit more to it than that. But while I have you all locked up like this, I don't see why I shouldn't have a little fun." He observed contentedly as her eyes flickered with anger. "I'm sure you'd agree that one shouldn't waste time or energy."

"Sod off," She said, the words flying from her mouth before she'd had a stronger grasp on her tongue.

"Are you sure you don't want to take that back mudblood?" He stood; his feet equally shoulder width apart, his right hand holding his wand steadily, his left holding his robes out of the way. "I can give you another repeat of last night if you'd like." She eyed his wand threatened before she gathered the courage to speak.

"Which part, Malfoy? Would you do over the torture or the _kiss_?"

"_Crucio_!" His yell echoed off the empty walls as he watched, pleased to see her body shudder in tremors of pain. When he finally lifted his wand she used the brief break to catch her breath her forehead already slick with sweat.

"Keeping your distance I see this time. No more moans?" Her voice was shaky but able to get her point across. She glared at him, her brown eyes taunting him from her crooked position in the bed.

"_Crucio_!" He screamed once more, his wand hand shaking as he pointed it directly at her heart. _Get control of yourself_, he thought, struck by how unlike himself he appeared. Again, more painfully she was able to suck in a deep breath when he finally released her. "No more witty comments?" She shook her head regretfully, her mind working feverishly to think of something more to set him off.

_It's working,_ she thought. This was the way to make him loose control and drop the cold, manipulative exterior.

"Then mudblood, I'd like you to apologize."

She pulled herself up on the bed, kneeling before him her hands on her knees as she shook her hair around her. She laughed maniacally at him. "Apologize for what?" She gasped, smiling up at him with a knowing look in her eye.

"I said apologize." His wand was no longer pointing at her but poking her straight in the belly as he grunted the words in anger.

Hermione's mind worked quickly. She couldn't be weak, she lectured herself, _stay strong and make him back down_. She formed her mouth into a perfect grimace, looked fiercely at him, her cheeks pink with her own anguish and fury. "Make. Me." She said, making each word its own sentence. She watched as his left hand clenched into a fist.

"_Imperio_," he stated calmly as he watched her eyes go blank of expression.

_Apologize_, Hermione heard in the back of her mind. She wanted to fight it, her own mental voice was yelling at her to stop him from using her this way, but she couldn't fight it for long.

"I'm sorry."

Her eyes went back to normal, her anger flowing in again hard and concentrated. She blinked her eyes once, twice, watching as his face being pleased with her giving in.

"You know, Lucius," His name alone tasted filthy on her tongue. "Using the unforgivable curses will _never_ make me do what you want me to do of my own free will. I still have that and you can't take it away." His face went a shade paler than before. "You know, I don't think you want me do what you want. You enjoy it too much, torturing me this way. You're _sick_," she said her tongue wrapping around each word carefully, making sure he didn't lose the strength of them. "Besides, then you couldn't take advantage of me the way you seem to enjoy and then wipe my memory. You can't wipe your own memory, Lucius. You'll still be the sick fuck who is taking advantage of a woman you _think_ is below you. You can't protect you from yourself."

"_Stupefy_!" Hermione flew flat on the bed, unmoving. Lucius walked from the room after straightening his robes, closing the door in a slam behind him.

IIII

Awakening, her body ached but she didn't care. She felt wetness across her forehead. She shot up in bed straight, her eyes scrambling to focus.

"It is just Plunket, miss. Do not be afraid." Hermione looked to her right. Beside the bed stood the tiny house elf with a wadded up wet cloth in her hand. "I is just wetting your face with a warm cloth. It is supposed to help with an ache in the head." Hermione nodded absentmindedly. She did have an awful headache. Lying back down, she took the cloth from the elf's outstretched hand, folding it neatly and placed it on her forehead.

"Not to be imposing miss, but I told you not to make my master angry. He isn't kind when he is angry." Hermione let out a gurgling laugh as she watched the elf shuffle around the room straightening this and that. "If you are hungry, there is toast for you to eat." Plunket reached down from beside the bed and produced a plate of fresh buttered toast with a glass of water.

Sitting up, Hermione reached for the water thirstily, gulping it down until it was empty. "Thank you."

"Yes, miss. I also have this for you. It is from my master." Plunket handed over a package wrapped in brown paper bag and tied with white string. Death Eater or not, he seemed well prepared to provide for her as a hostage, she thought.

Hermione, frustrated with the situation, unsure of why she was here other than as a game to Malfoy. She opened the brown paper parcel and was quite relieved to see what actually fell out was only a pair of jeans (the right size which Hermione found disturbing on many levels) and a small black cotton sweater. All in all, she was pleased to realize that these were ordinary clothes and nothing special like the dress and jewels had been. To her there was nothing more disturbing than finding that he had provided her with silk and priceless jewels.

"Umm, Plunket, do you know… is it possible to go to the bathroom?" Hermione asked, looking at the tiny house elf, now peering up at her with a look of confusion, her eyes as round as Frisbees.

"Oh no miss, Plunket is so sorry, but miss cannot leave the room." The house elf began a slow back up towards the door to leave when the door itself slammed open against the wall. Plunket fell to her knees in fear. "Master!" She cried, pressing her large, button shaped nose to the floor in front of her, her back still turned from the door.

Hermione looked at the door expecting to see Lucius standing, furious in front of her. Surprise glazed over her face as she recognized who it was.

"My my… what have we here?" Bellatrix Lestrange walked into the bedroom, her dark purple robes dragging across the floor. The door closed instantly behind her. "Get up," she said, gesturing to the house elf. Her wand was waving haphazardly in the air, red sparks flying from the wand. Hermione bounced off the bed, squaring herself evenly against Bellatrix, eyeing her wand warily. "A mudblood in Malfoy Manor?" Bella laughed crazily, her curly dark hair bouncing around. "Well this is just deliciously juicy! My sister, poor dear, dead in the grave, would set the house on fire if she only knew!" She squealed, her wand now pointing at Hermione, her own hands held at her sides as she found herself wandless.

"What do you want, Bellatrix?"

"It appears that since I am the one with the wand, I am the one that can ask the questions!" Plunket now whimpered on the floor as Hermione stumbled a step backwards, her mind working furiously to think of a way out of the situation. "Why are you here, mudblood? Answer wisely if you don't want to die."

"Murder me and you'll be only that much closer to Azkaban again. You and I both know the Death Eaters are watched like rats."

"Answer me!" Bellatrix screamed, her facing growing splotchy with rage. Hermione's strength faltered. She knew Bellatrix to be quite unhinged and rather vengeful.

"I don't know why I'm here! I was brought here… I'm being kept here!" Hermione said, holding her hands out in front of her as if to hold Bellatrix at bay with her own two hands.

"Against your will?"

Hermione nodded, eying the wand again. She figured if she made a large enough distraction to break Bella's eyes off of herself she might be able to wrestle the wand away from her. Hermione edged herself around the bed toward the night table where the bowl of water that Plunket had been wiping her forehead with rested. Bella's back was turned to her, looking into the fireplace almost dreamy-like her wand hand held tight as she thought over this news.

With out a second thought, knowing this would be her only chance she grasped the bowl of water and threw it at Bellatrix, hitting her square in the back of the head.

"Argh!!!!" She screamed, her hands flying wildly as she made to turn and strike back at Hermione. Already too quick for her, her plan progressing in front of her, Hermione had lunged on top of the bed, and jumped from the springy mattress for Bellatrix, tackling her as she turned. They both fell to the ground, wild curly masses of hair swinging as they both struggled one against the other. Hermione rolled on top of Bellatrix using her right hand to grope around for Bellatrix's wand which had flown out of her hand as she had tumbled to the ground. Hermione's left hand had punched Bellatrix square in the jaw and now held her throat as she finally grasped the wand in her right, bringing it straight to her neck.

"_Stupefy_!" Hermione screamed before she could think, her mind rushing step by step, wanting endlessly to think of a way out of her prison. Bellatrix' body went slack, her head slumping to the side where she lay. Hermione not wasting a moment to praise herself for overtaking the Death Eater, jumped quickly to her feet. She rushed for the door, her hand grasping the knob only to find it locked. "_Alohomora_!" The lock clicked out of place.

Sparing one more backward glance at the room, Bellatrix lying knocked out on the floor and Plunket still whimpering and crying in the back corner, and then she was gone. Hermione raced down the hallway her right hand, sweaty, wrapped around the wand.


	22. Amorous Birds of Prey

Chapter 22: Amorous Birds of Prey

He lay motionless, watching the ceiling, watching the back of his eyelids… watching… waiting… listening. Jerking himself awake, he forced himself to sit up. He didn't want to sleep. The bed squeaked beneath his weight and he swore. Finally comfortable again, leaning against the padded black leather headboard he lifted his hands to his face, rubbing the tiredness from the eyes, rubbing his cheeks to bring the feeling back to them. Exhaustion was creeping over him. Maybe sleep wouldn't be so wrong. He let himself slide back down into a laying position, resting his head on the down pillows that surrounded him. This wasn't so bad at all.

Sleep found him easily. He sighed as the weight of his eyelids closed upon the light. He shifted ever so slightly and once more the bed gave a gentle squeak. His last thought before drifting into sleep was that he needed a new bed, one that would never squeak.

Gently, swiftly he moved from that place, the blackness between waking and sleep and into a heavy slumber. His body relaxed completely, his lips parting over so slightly to let in just a bit more air. And then it fell like he was falling once more, as if the bed were tilting downward into a pit, only he didn't wake. He wasn't really falling, just falling into his dreams.

Lucius found himself abstractedly in a room so very similar it was if he was standing, looking through a mirror, yet slight differences showed that it was off. For instance, when he turned where he stood he should have found a bed with a black padded headboard. This headboard was not black but pure white, as if made of cotton, itself. He walked to the bedside table and saw his own wand lying there, undisturbed, precisely where he'd left it. Picking up the wand, he examined it.

Perfectly similar in every way.

Letting his gaze roam the room again he sat on the bed gently.

No squeak.

It wasn't his bed at all.

"Lucius?" The voice was oddly familiar. She was calling his name. He turned his head quickly to the right examining the door that lay beyond; he grasped his wand in his hand tightly. The door was for the most part closed, but held slightly ajar. Bright white beams of light lit up the outline of the door and filled the room behind it. "Lucius?" She asked again.

Feeling quite certain he knew the voice but still unsure of whom it was, he raised his wand as he began to speak. "I'm here," he said simply. His voice was cold and hard. His eyes never left the oak door.

Quickly, the door swung inward, the bright white light obstructed Lucius' vision momentarily. He held up his left hand, shielding his eyes from the light as he raised his wand hand still further. The thought crossed his mind to throw a curse out, but the voice… the woman… it was so familiar.

"I—I've been waiting for you," she said, her voice high and nervous, gave a small stutter before regaining control.

"Have you?" Lucius asked, his eyes still blinded for the most part, unable to see much of the woman standing before him other than her small frame and masses of dark hair. He peered around at her, glaring into the light, focusing his clear blue eyes on the woman standing just beyond his field of vision in the light. "Come closer," he demanded, knowing he knew the woman standing before him. And so she did. She stepped from the light, giving the door behind her a gentle swing and it closed behind her, the light itself died away.

"I—I…" she stammered.

"Mudblood?" Her head drops sheepishly.

"I've been waiting for you." She said again, her eyes lifting from the dark carpeted floor to look him directly in the eye. Lucius took a step back, once more raising his wand at her. "Don't…" she said, gesturing to his wand. Her eyes looked full as the moon and as dark the night, but the black lashes fringing around them made them look wider, frightened... frightening.

"You've escaped your room." It was not a question but a statement. She smiled awkwardly at him, stepping closer, closing the gap between them. Confusion swam over him, flooding his senses. Something wasn't right. The puzzle pieces weren't fitting together.

"I've come to visit," she said, reaching out a hand to finger the bed linens. With shocking incredulity she looked over her shoulder at him, her hair falling down her back, away from her face and then she smiled, unafraid.

_This must be a dream_, Lucius thought; finally seeing that he wasn't going crazy after all. The dirty little mudblood would never behave in such a manner. _Yet this is so real_. He felt quite sure that if he were to reach out his hand and touch her, he would feel her skin, the heat rising from it as a real body does. His left hand was inches away from her cheek when he dropped his arm. She smiled once more and turned her face away, her hands smoothing the soft, silken sheets in slow waving patterns.

"I could kill you," he said, testing her, raising his wand and touching her back with it. She didn't turn.

"I never doubted your ability." Her voice sounded odd. Still she kept her back to him, running her hands over the fabric.

"Look at me." His frustration was building, anger bubbling hot in his chest. Slowly, tauntingly slow, she turned. Her eyes grew wider as she glanced ever so slightly down at the wand he held to her. Her mouth formed an 'o'. She did not speak, but stood perfectly still, watching him watching her.

With an ease he would not think her capable of her hands reached out, one forcing his wand down though he held it steadfastly against her stomach. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was screaming for himself to wake up if it truly were a dream. He felt his resistance waning. His wand arm dropped to his side. She smiled up at him, her lips pulling taut as she looked up into his face, so close. Her arms ever so slightly reached out, her hands outstretched, palms facing him and touched his chest. He froze. Alarm bells squealed in his mind. He kept his face solid and stone-like, never betraying a single thought. She began to smooth her hands over his robes the same as she had done the linen sheets. Up and down, in slow soft circles she moved her hands around his chest, shoulders, stomach.

He reached out and with alarming strength grabbed both wrists in his left hand with one unyielding motion. He threw her from him, her body landing at random on the bed. Again she smiled, her brown curls falling around her face. She rose up from the bed, kneeling as she had done before, her hands on her knees, looking up at him in an almost bizarre fashion. She reached out her hands once more, her dark eyes drinking him in. Wrapping her hands in the folds of his robes she pulled gently yet forcefully. He took a step closer.

Her hands left his robes, one to his back, around his neck and began to run her fingers absentmindedly through his hair. He became irritated. She took her empty hand and held it to his neck softly and began to move it upward, along his jawbone, up... up… touching his cheek soothingly. Lucius felt his anger rising, his body growing hot with frustration, and yet his wand arm hung loosely at his side, his eyes focusing on hers. And yet she pressed further, pulling him again, another step he took. Their bodies touched.

He turned his face from hers, looking, focusing on the opposite wall resolutely. She wrapped her hand around his jawbone again, pressuring, turning his face back to her. She kissed him. He stood there stunned at her reckless behavior, disgust burning his throat. Still he did not break the kiss. Without knowing what pushed him further, he noticed his own hands were enfolded in her hair, the thick curls falling around his hands and forearms, before he pulled her still closer to him.

She moaned. He pulled away, breaking the kiss, fisting his hands in her hair, pulling roughly, harshly. He looked at her face into her dark eyes, their faces still pressed close, their noses touching ever so slightly. His eyes, unable to focus pulled back further and looked into the eyes of Bellatrix.

He screamed.

She screamed.

His eyes burst open, awake. Screams emanating from down the hall. He jumped from the bed, grabbing his wand hastily in his right hand before rushing from the door. He heard them from the end of the hall.

"Answer me!" He recognized Bellatrix' screeching voice immediately.

"I don't know why I'm here! I was brought here… I'm being kept here!" So the mudblood was up for talking? Lucius crept closer to the door his wand outstretched waiting for any other disturbance. This would not bode well for himself if he didn't find a way out of this mess. It was already mess enough with Bellatrix knowing the little bitch was here.

Momentary lapses in judgment. That's how he could defend himself to Bella. He almost laughed aloud. As if such an excuse would fly. He'd be burned at the stake should he not be able to come up with a viable excuse for housing a dirty leech like Granger. He stood at the door listening, knowing that a scuffle had broken out. He backed away from the door knowing who ever it was that was about to burst forth, whether it was the mudblood or Bellatrix, he didn't want to get caught listening at the door. He hurried back to the entry way to his own room near the top of the staircase, his black cloak flying behind him. He would wait.

"_Stupefy_!" He heard, even from down the hall. He didn't have time to analyze who had screamed the curse. The door at the end of the walkway burst open as if on fire. And then he saw her. Her wild masses of hair flying behind her, her face screwed up in concentration. He watched her momentarily. She would be before him within seconds. No time to think. Suddenly, it was if everything was in slow motion. He could see every detail of it. He watched as her eyes scanned the doors she passed abruptly, he swore he could almost see her mind thinking. Her hand was wrapped so tightly around the wand her fingers were red but her knuckles were white. Her hand was rigid, ready. With a flash he was watching in real time again just as she came to pass the doorway he was watching from. He let her run by him, ready to leap down the stairs when she stopped. She'd seen him.

He didn't think but jumped. He grabbed her from behind, wrapping his arms tightly around her, she screamed. Her own hesitation had ruined her master escape. Balancing on the stairs perilously with her body kicking and her arms swinging he held her tight against himself and took a single step back from the stairs.

"It was a rather glorious attempt, Mudblood." His silky voice was huskier than usual; his lips perched ever so near her ear.

"Go to hell," she bellowed, her own voice echoing off the walls down the stairwell below.

With his free hand he took his wand and pointed it into the tender skin below her jaw, sticking it hard into her throat. He mumbled something and the wand tip began to burn her skin.

"Drop the wand, Granger." He felt her jerk against him, attempting again to escape his grasp. "_Expelliarmus_!" Bella's wand flew out of her hand and he pushed her hard. She tumbled down the stairs, grunting to the bottom, her head whacking grotesquely against the hard marble bottom step. He looked at her feeling pure disgust rise in his chest. "_Levicorpus_!" Her body flew into the air, floating by the ankle, he directed with his wand and her body levitated past him her body unconscious.

IIII

"Explain yourself!" She screeched.

"Calm yourself, Bellatrix."

"My sister would roll in her grave."

"Your sister has no grave. Her ashes were spread, do you not remember?" He tried half-heartedly to change the subject.

"A mudblood in Malfoy Manor? If the Dark Lord knew!" Her bellows became more and more pronounced as she took random items and threw them about the room.

"The Dark Lord has been vanquished. He can do nothing."

"Explain yourself!" She growled taking a silver picture frame holding a family photo and chucking it clear across the room, narrowly missing his skull.

"Bella, Bella darling," he began putting down his drink and casting a sideways glance at her, her hair a right mess, her hands shaking and a scowl of hideous proportions prominent on her face. "It is my plan that she be here." His mind was working feverishly, constructing a plausible story though keeping his face clear of any reaction. "To… let us say _avenge_ our kind." She stopped throwing things about and turned on the spot to face him.

"Avenge?" she asked, her deep, dark eyes narrowing.

"Yes darling!" He started, walking towards her, a look of excitement etched in his features, his icy blue eyes drinking her in. "Do you not also feel that it is time that we, the strong powerful rulers of the wizarding race, once more take what is ours?"

"Of course this is how I feel. It is our creed to believe so." She seemed entranced with his speech. He didn't give her time to think it over. He took her in his arms and slid them silkily around her body, knowing exactly how to play her.

"Who were those most responsible for our downfall?" She started to speak but he pressed a long white finger to her red lips. She closed them, slightly kissing his finger. "None other than _the Golden Trio_ as they so deemed to call themselves. It is our duty to uphold our beliefs and destroy them!" Bella rocked back and forth on her heels clearly excited.

"So you've brought the mudblood here to murder?"

"Torture… murder… all in good time, my dearest." He held her close, whispering in her ear as if the words he spoke were sweet nothings meant for a lover. She laughed raucously and buried her head in his shoulder.

"When shall we accumulate the others? When should we begin to contact our trusted society?" She had so many questions. She'd wondered for years when they would begin their revolt against the new regime. She positively bubbled with excitement.

"All in good time love…" He leaned down and planted a gentle, yet insistent kiss upon her lips. "All in good time, Bella."


	23. Time is Fleeting

Chapter 23: Time is Fleeting

Doing the math, counting the hours, counting the horrors, she figured it had been days since she'd been taken, possibly a week, possibly more. Her mind worked furiously, endlessly looking for a weak spot in his suit of armor; a chink in which she could stab away. Fearing the absolute worst, she knew the possibilities of escape were greatly reduced with the appearance of Bellatrix Lestrange. She could no longer forcibly remain positive. Her outlook was now so dim.

Lucius himself hadn't been to see her in days. No one had. No one other than Plunket, that is. She brought her food, took her on trips to the lavatory, brought her fresh clothing if she deemed it necessary. No sign of other life in the house. Not a noise. She wondered if she weren't alone completely.

Once more staring at the ceiling she wondered how long she'd be here. She wondered why she was here, what was Malfoy's game? What was his gain? She spent the majority of her hours staring into nothingness, daydreams floating her in and out of consciousness, floating her in and out of sanity.

She imagined that Daily Prophet was already full of reports of herself, missing. _Headline: Ministry worker gone missing, no trace- Subheading: first ministry disappearance since You-Know-Who_, she mused. She might not be a major influence at the ministry but any disappearance at all was bound to force questions, wasn't it? She knew it might just be her saving grace.

IIII

"Have you seen this?" The paper slid across the dining room table at him, knocking over a glass of orange juice. "Sorry," she said, waving her wand causing the juice to spring up from the table and back into the glass.

"What is it I'm supposed to be looking for?" He glanced up at her, her hair was a mess and she was still wearing her dressing gown. He grinned sheepishly before recanting when he saw the seriousness of her face.

"Bottom left corner." Her eyes looked fervidly about his face, searching for equal understanding.

He looked back to the paper, searching for a headline that would mean anything to him.

_**Ministry Unnerved Due to Disappearance**_

_Ministry has released a statement made earlier this morning relating to a disappearance of a ministry worker. Gina Roberts, 39, undersecretary to the Minister himself, had this to say: "Though a disappearance in the sector of Muggle Relations has taken place, we are doing everything in our power to find the missing girl. Admittedly, we are at this time unable to locate her, but feel this is but a simple misunderstanding. Do not be alarmed, we have a full task-force looking for the girl, this being our prime directive at this time. Should any more news come forward, we shall let you know accordingly." The ministry has yet to release the name of the girl in question, advising they feel at this time such information could be used in a negative light._

"A disappearance? It's been awhile since anything like that. I hope they find the poor girl." He put the paper down and looked up at his wife, expectantly.

"It's the first one since Voldemort was defeated, or rather since all the copy-cat kidnappings the Death Eaters pulled off before being sent to Azkaban." Her voice sounded raspy and unsure. She'd long since begun using his name, no longer fearful of what was no more. He rose from his seat and went to her.

"I don't think it is anything to worry about. If you read the muggle papers, people disappear all the time." He ran his hands up and down her arms, warming her, calming her.

"We aren't usually as barbaric as muggles. Besides, I think there is much more to this."

"What do you mean?"

"Why won't they release the girl's name? What if it is someone more high profile than they're leading us to believe? I'm sure if it was just anybody they'd say so, but not releasing her name is just showing that it's someone important." Her mind was frazzled. She couldn't remember the last time she felt a fear like this.

"Who important works in muggle relations?" He joked, trying to lighten the mood. As soon as he said it his mind went blank. Her face screwed up in horror. "I'll floo Ron. Maybe he's seen her lately."

IIII

"You're right; they will come looking at all the old Death Eaters."

"So it's settled? Where should we move?" She was on edge. She hadn't slept in days, standing watch over him, searching for any falsehoods in the story he presented.

"I want you to look on the outskirts of London. Find an abandoned house. Make sure it's not nor never has been a wizard's house. Before we move we can make it unplottable and add a few additional protections. Just do it and do it quickly," he advised as she turned to speak. The dark circles under her eyes made her look even more unhinged than usual. "And Bella, don't tell anyone. If I find out you've been in contact with anyone from the past, you will be sorry." His silken voice rolled over her; his words sounded soft but she felt the whip-like threat beneath. She hurried out of the room, her wand twirling in her fingers.

Just what he needed, he thought. Now that the prophet released a statement from the Ministry it meant it was serious. Covering his tracks would be easy, as long as he was undetected. Lucius had long ago decided that his last step would be to confront Draco. If the boy didn't want to join with the plan he'd laid out to Bella, then his mind would have to be modified. He dreaded having to obliviate his own son, but duty was duty and his own skin meant more to him than that.

_I won't go back to Azkaban_, he thought. There were worse things than altering a memory.

IIII

"Hurry miss!" The house elf scurried about the room nervously.

"Why? What's going on?" Hermione sat bolt upright in the bed. This was the first time in the past few days the elf, the only person she'd been permitted to see, had let anything past involving what was going on outside the house. If she must hurry, there must be a reason.

"Oh nothing," Plunket said, suddenly running at the wall in her way of self punishment. Hermione smiled before pulling the elf from the wall. So there was something going on, even if Plunket couldn't tell her. "Please miss, please! Dress quickly. The masters have commanded it."

Once dressed, she was told to wait; the poor house elf curtseyed so low her nose grazed the worn carpet. And so she waited. After what felt like hours had passed she slowly realized nothing was going to happen to her. She lay back on the bed, confusion overpowering her senses. She imagined Malfoy somewhere in the house laughing at her expense, making her jump through hoops to dress and wait for him… for something… anything.

She felt more alone than ever. Darkness began to fall through the small window. The fire lit in the fireplace automatically. The light enlivened swaying, awkward shadows about the room. She watched them, as she had done for days. She waited still, knowing that about this time the house elf usually came back through the door with a tray of food.

None came. And still she waited. After about an hour she realized tonight no food would come. She felt the tears burst from the dam of her eyes. She'd finally began to accept her fate, she'd found patterns in her time here and now she was beginning to see she couldn't count on anything. And so she cried. Loneliness crept over her quickly, her tears coming more rapidly, her nose and throat aching with the pain of crying for so long. She had no plan. It all seemed pointless when she couldn't count on something as simple as a food tray.

_Stop it,_ she thought. _You're not a child. You're not ever going to get out of this if you act this way! You have to think. You have to fight…_ She wiped her hands unceremoniously across her eyes, she sniffed back her tears. From somewhere deep within, with the thought of herself, seventeen, tragically being cursed on the floor of Malfoy Manor once before, she fought back the tears. She'd been through worse, she reminded herself. Struggling against her own self denial she ran at the door pounding her fists, feeling herself grow stronger with each thrust. Even if it was nothing, even if it meant nothing she'd fight back. She closed her eyes and screamed, pounding the door harder, harder feeling vindication until the door itself burst open, revealing Lucius Malfoy. She fell backward with the force of the door opening; she looked up at him, her face blank.

He stood over her, sneering, his eyes openly hateful. "Get up," he said. She wasted no time but stood. He wrapped his gloved hand around her upper arm and he yanked. He didn't say a word but pulled her along, out of the room, down the hall, all the while keeping his wand pointed at her, but not sparing her a glance. She appraised him.

"Where are you taking me?" She asked, as she watched him, the point where he squeezed her arm becoming more and more painful each second he held her. She ignored the pain. He ignored her. He marched her along, his wide steps forcing her to jog to keep up with him as he held her arm only tighter. As they began down the stairs she attempted to pull away from him, he squeezed her arm with such force, securing her in his grasp; she thought her arm was going numb with lack of blood flow. "Where are you taking me?" She kicked at his legs attempting to make him lose his balance and fall to the ground, releasing her.

"Try it again, _filth_, and I'll show you what it is like to feel pain!" Her cackling laugh forced Hermione to look behind her for a fraction of a second as Lucius continued to pull her down the stairs. Bellatrix stood behind her, hopping along the stairs as though it were a funny game, her wand pointed at Hermione from behind. She stopped struggling against his hold on her but marched along, fuming. Out the doors, down the gravel drive they marched, her legs cold in the chilly air her eyes unused to the bright sunlight after days spent locked in that dark room. She began to scream as loudly as she could, trying to alert someone, somewhere outside the property of Malfoy Manor to her existence.

"You think you will be heard? There isn't anyone around for miles." It was not Lucius that spoke but once more, Bellatrix. Hermione shot her a glare. Bellatrix laughed, unnerving her. Lucius still said nothing but gripped her arm and marched her forward towards the gates out of the property. He still had not said a word.

Once they reached the gates, Malfoy stopped, and yanked Hermione back to his side, turned her on the spot with him as they apparated off the property.

A white, dirty rundown old house stood in front of her. The street entrance was abandoned, wood plants nailed to the gate, blocking the way. He pulled her around the back yanking her through a squeaky, broken screen door. She didn't say a word but took in her surroundings like a thirsty man drinking water. Lucius tugged her along, having no patience for her.

Her heart plummeted deep into her belly. No one would ever find her now. She felt certain that death was not far away. She looked to her left, felt his grasp on her arm loosening as they entered the house, and met the eyes of who she knew, at that moment, would be her killer. Her mouth fell open and she screamed, fear choking in her throat.

"Stop" he said, simply. Continuing to yank on her arm though his grasp had lessened considerably. When she continued to scream he clapped his free hand over her mouth. "Stop" he said again. Her mouth closed against his hand. He stared into her eyes as he pushed her against a wall, his hand still covering her mouth, though she no longer screamed. In the second it took for his eyes to break from hers, with a single fluid motion a door to her right flew open and he pushed her inside. Falling to the ground, she hit her head on the hard wood floor, knocking her out cold.


	24. Hole to Feed

Chapter 24: Hole to Feed

She woke up, her body sore, her mouth dry and her head aching as she'd never experienced before. The pounding of the rain on a small, dirty glass window shook her, forcing her to sit up and appear alert.

"Did you enjoy your rest?" The contempt in his voice so chilly, Hermione cowered away, feeling colder than before. She did not respond, but she met his disgusted gaze head-on. He watched her, narrowing his eyes as he did. "Have you lost your tongue, Mudblood?"

"Where am I?" She looked about eager to take in her surroundings but not wanting to take her eyes off of him, fearful.

"Your new home for the time being," Lucius said, smirking at her cowering on the dirty floor.

"Where is it?" She fought her body's exhaustion, straining to stay alert and focused on where she was.

"Well, I'd tell you, but it doesn't really matter, does it?" He swept his long dark, forest green cloak out of the way as he sat on the edge of the metal railing of a rickety old bed. "No one knows you're here, Granger. No one ever will. It isn't as if you'll ever escape, so why should I tell you? It'll only be worse for you… lower your morale, and believe me; you'll need your strength for the days ahead. Bella's has got quite a… marathon ahead for you. I wouldn't want you to show any weakness." He winked at her, his icy blue eyes illuminating with fire as he spoke, the small iron grate behind him filling with flames.

You… demon… you brute!" Hermione struggled to put the emotions she was searching for into words. He laughed openly and loudly at her, kneeling in front of him, her eyes brimming with tears and her face screwed up in anger and disgust. "You won't get away with this, Malfoy! They're still watching you. No one trusts you at all!" She stood up, faced him head on and went to him, reaching out her arm, her muscles straining, and slapped him hard, her cold, sweaty palm connecting with his warm cheek.

Hermione flew back from him, his wand held out to her and a ray of blue light coming from it. She stayed frozen on the ground, immobile. He readjusted his robes, shook his hair out of his face, back into place, flowing down his back, and smiled evilly at her. Striding forward he stopped directly in front of her and knelt low, his lips a mere inch from her face.

"It's funny you should think that, Mudblood; because, I _have_ already gotten away with it." He whispered the words into her ear as though they were words of a sweet poem for a lover. He sighed as his right hand roamed up her naked thigh, still immobile on the ground, up over her hip and across her stomach until it came to rest directly above her heart. "No one will ever find you. I know you've thought it… feel it. I can see the fear in your mind right now, flowing from your eyes in the tears you are dying to cry even now…" He massaged the skin cold and pale on her chest and collarbone. "Don't worry, Granger. You're secrets are safe with me." He smirked again, his silky words left to linger over her as he got up gracefully and strode from the room, leaving her until the curse wore off, alone and cold.

IIII

"Face it, Harry," Her voice was strong, trying to convince him of the impossible. "We, none of us," She added letting her eyes roam over both men's faces. "Well, none of us have exactly reached out to her in recent years. We know almost nothing about her daily life, and without the Ministry's help it'll be near impossible to find her." The desperation in Ginny's voice was slight but she knew that they both heard it.

"I know Gin, but… it's Hermione. I know it is; even if the Ministry won't release any information." Harry patted her hand, his eyes focused on the grainy wood table in the dining room they all sat around, worry thick in the air.

"Yeah! And don't forget about that look Kingsley gave you. He practically gave it all away looking at you with his face all screwed up like that when you asked if it was Hermione," Ron piped up, feeling regenerated at the thought of it. They all seemed to draw strength from this.

Harry thought back to twenty-four hours previous when he'd gone to the Ministry on a mission to seek out any information he could regarding the girl who'd disappeared. The trouble was, regardless of whom he was, no one was keen on releasing any information. It was a mere chance he ran into Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister himself, in the lift on the way back to the atrium. Due to their previous ties together in the Order, Harry could see it was hard for Kingsley to avoid looking him directly in the eye when Harry had asked straight out if Hermione was the missing girl from Muggle Relations.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter," Kingsley had said, looking straight ahead, his assistant bustling about the lift looking rather nervous. "That's privileged information." He'd turned his head only ever so slightly in Harry's direction and looked at him as though egging him to ask on in another direction, his eyebrows slightly raised. Harry had only smiled at him and apologized for bothering him before walking out of the lift as it reached the first level and heading back home to tell Ginny and Ron what he'd discovered.

"But what can we do with that information?" Ginny asked, getting up and taking the tea kettle off the burner and shutting off the gas. "If the ministry officials aren't willing to help us and they aren't exactly eager about letting us in on their investigation, where does that leave us?" She poured the boiling water into three different cups and placed tea bags into them. "Ever since Ron here was a world class dolt and left her standing at the altar, Hermione hasn't exactly been forthcoming with what she's doing and who she's seeing these days." Ron scoffed at this.

"Hey, I've tried to call 'round at her apartment a few times… and when I've seen her at the Ministry or on the street I've tried to talk to her! But you know Hermione… she's so damn stubborn." He looked down at the tea Ginny had placed in front of him, feeling insurmountable guilt for what had happened years ago.

"Let's not talk about that," Harry said, knowing that Ron himself had been feeling remorse for running out on her ever since it happened. "What we've got to do is create a plan. We should probably go to her apartment first and see if there are any signs there about what she's been up to."

Ginny sighed, took another sip of her hot tea and looked at her husband from across the table, trying not to think about what poor Hermione could be going through at that very moment.

IIII

The wicked cackle obnoxiously filled the room, waking her, bringing Hermione back to her senses. It could have been the woman's brazen laughter or it could have been the sudden breeze that flew through the room when the door flew open that sent chills down Hermione's back though seconds before she was sweaty with fear and agitation. She opened her eyelids, taking in the scant amount of light that poured in from the open doorway where Lucius now stood.

"Enough Bella." It was not a request but a sure command.

"You think the little mudblood has had enough?" Bellatrix went to Lucius and wrapped her arm snakelike through his, staring down at her wounded prey. He did not answer her right away but took in Hermione's appearance. She lay on the ground, her hair wet and sticky with sweat and blood that trickled from a slight cut above her eyebrow. She was panting, half breathing in fresh, cold air and half retching, bent over, bringing up nothing but air. Her shirt was torn revealing her stomach and he could see slight cuts up and down her arms, legs, and belly. He was disgusted, though not even he could say if it was from the mudblood herself or the terrible state she was in.

"Yes, Bella," he said finally, separating his arm from her claw-like grasp. "Enough. I want to speak to you."

"What about?" Bellatrix matched his movements practically panting after him, as he stepped away from her and looked a final time down at Granger, breathing normally again on the floor.

"About private matters," Lucius said as his eyes sweeping across Bellatrix' face, watching her eyes light up with pleasure. "Follow me to the sitting room." He glided from the room, his cloak trailing lightly on the dusty ground. Bella dogged his every step, eagerly waiting for him to speak, as she slammed and locked the door magically behind her.

"What is it Lucius? I was having fun!" She looked rather put-out as she slumped down into a black armchair.

"I've been thinking about the next step in our plans." Without looking at her he knew she was now sitting at attention, her mind never far from wickedness. He poured himself a drink of strong firewhiskey. "We need to somehow devise a way to get the Weasley blood-traitor here. He'll be next on our list. The problem is, unlike the mudblood, he's never far from Potter."

"Weasley? Well, we'll have to do it somehow. Maybe Draco will be the easiest. They did go to school together." She tapped her wand lightly on the arm of the chair, thinking seriously of the business at hand.

"Have you any idea how serious this is, Bellatrix? Should we not do this to extreme perfection and take things slow, they're bound to blow up in our faces." He glanced at her over the rim of his glass. He saw a millisecond's worth of fear darken her eyes before she smiled once more.

"Absolutely, Lucius! We must be cautious. But that doesn't mean we have to throw the whole plan out the window. We have the one; now let us _snatch_ up the next! It'll be great fun, don't you think?" She jumped from the arm chair and began to pace the living area, looking straight through walls, lost in her own thoughts.

"Yes, yes," he said, already bored with the proceedings. "But remember, they are watching us. We must be infinitesimally careful. I will not end up in that prison again."

"And you think I want to be caught?" She cackled, her face suddenly blanched, her eyes dark with horror. "No, you're absolutely right. Careful… careful." Once more she lost herself in thought. He left her alone, standing before the fireplace, looking deeply into the flames mumbling Draco's name over and over again.

He traced his steps lightly back to the dark hallway, towards the locked door to the room where they kept her. He leaned against the wall, resting is forehead against the cool wood. He could hear her on the other side of the room crying. He fought a smile. He imagined her balled up on the floor crying in pain after the torture she had endured at the hands of Bella only moments before. He shook off a cringe before tapping lightly on the door with his silver handled walking stick. Listening intently Lucius heard her sharp intake of breath. He pushed against the door, the magical lock instantly opening for him.

"I told you it would be quite epic, did I not?" Lucius asked Hermione as he saw her sitting up in the bed, her eyes hard and angry, and her knees held close to her chest. She did not speak but nodded her head slightly in agreement. Her eyes cast down at the sheetless mattress she sat on. He battled the urge to smirk at how hard it was for her to agree with him. "But I must say, you've faired quite well so far. Though, I doubt she's quite done. She's like a caged tiger, that Bellatrix. She's been practically locked up since the whole fiasco with the Dark Lord. I can't quite blame her for wanting to let loose." Hermione's eyes shot up from the mattress and bore straight into his own. She looked terrified but on the edge of anger at his words.

"Have you come to gloat then?" Hermione spoke, finding the courage after digging deep past the pain. She struggled to remember what her plan had been before she'd attacked Bellatrix and fought her wand off her. She remembered his touch on her skin and his wand pointed in her face, washing her memory clean.

"I haven't." He stood straight, not touching anything but the floor he stood upon.

"Then why are you here, Malfoy?" Her eyes narrowed, taking him in. She swept her eyes up and down his sharply dressed form noting the dark robes so typical of him, his few jeweled rings snug on his fingers, the crisp tie close to his throat. She met his eyes finally, not daring to be the first to look away. "Or are you here to play your own little game again? Shall I lay still? Let you touch me the way you pretend you don't do?" She lowered herself into a laying position on the bed, letting her wild, dark masses of hair flow out around her shockingly white face. "Is this what you came for?" Hermione asked, disgusted with herself, as she lay there, waiting for him, still never taking her eyes from his, baring her teeth as the words she despised slipped through. He stood frozen over her. He broke from her gaze first. She felt his eyes roam rakishly over her from head to toe and she felt dirtier than she already was.

A cringe flowed through her body, one which she could not fight off though she desperately had tried. He caught the slight twitch of her upper body, the way her eyes had rolled in her head and her mouth had grimaced. He smirked. He leaned down over her and sat ever so lightly on the edge of the bed, as if she'd invited him to do so.

"Is this what you want? You're practically begging me for it, Mudblood." As if he had no care in the world he slipped the sleeves of his robe up past his elbow revealing his pale hands and forearms. He smiled down at her. "Would you like it if I touched you?" Ever so gently he did, his hand steady, meeting her own smaller one. He took her hand in his and held it softly, bringing it from her side.

"Would you like it if I caressed you?" Lucius did so as he spoke, his hand massaging the skin of her hand softly, rubbing the soft spot right below her thumb.

"Dare I say it; would you like it if I kissed you?" He brought her hand to his face, palm upward he planted a kiss in the center of her palm his breath hot on her skin, his lips soft and molded slightly to the shape of her hand. He let his lips move slowly down to her finger tips, placing a quick, gentle kiss on each before moving to the fleshy part of her thumb once more, kissing it, softly biting it. "Is this what you want?" He let his eyes move from her hand, up her arm to her face, meeting her dark steady eyes.

She did not move. She dared not, fearing what he'd do next now that she'd opened the door to his advances. "Answer me, Mudblood. Is this what you want?" His voice was no longer gentle or soft, whispering into her palm. She struggled to speak, the words not forming on her tongue. She'd lost her courage the moment he sat on the bed beside her. Hermione shook her head fervently 'no'.

"I thought not," Lucius said, dropping her hand back to her side. "Besides, you're quite filthy." He spit carelessly on the floor before lifting himself lightly from the bed and sweeping from the room.

She stayed there, shaking uncontrollably in her own skin, fearful of his return, but unable to move. She relived the encounter again and again until, hours later, she drifted off to sleep, her cheeks stiff with tears that had long since dried.


	25. Not Alone

"From childhood's hour I have not been as others were- I have not seen as others saw." ~ Edgar Allan Poe

Chapter 25: Not Alone

"_Alohomora_!" The lock clicked out of place. Harry made a mental note to tell Hermione in the future that she should have a more complicated lock on her front door. He led the way into her small apartment, followed by Ron and Ginny.

"What exactly is it we're looking for?" Ron asked, standing awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable at being in Hermione's flat.

Harry flipped over a copy of the Daily Prophet on her dining room table. "This paper is dated two and a half weeks ago. I'm going to guess she's been missing since that day."

"Well thank you Sherlock," Ginny said, wandering over to a black box with a blinking red light. "What's this?"

"Oh, that's a telephone answering machine. She's got a few messages," Harry said walking over to his wife. He pressed the button. Maybe whoever had left her messages would know more information about where she might be.

The messages were all from the same person. A woman named Eve who thought it was very rude that Hermione hadn't been calling her back.

"Who do you think Eve is?" Ron asked.

"A friend, I'm sure. I bet she'd know more about Hermione than any of us knows right now. We should probably talk to her." Ginny began to flip through a few unopened letters from the owl post.

"Yeah, but haven't the Ministry already made their way through her apartment? They'd have already heard those messages and anything they found out from Eve, would've already helped them track down Hermione if it was useful, right?" Ron took a picture off her mantel piece, staring into the face of a scrawny brown-haired man holding Hermione. He opened the frame and took the photo out, anger suddenly boiling through him at the sight of her with another man.

"Well they might have talk to Eve, but they aren't going to share any of that information with us. Besides, it was on an answering machine, which most wizards don't even know what that is. Chances are they didn't hear the message at all," Harry said, taking the photo from Ron's hands. "On the back of this picture it says it's of her and someone named Sean. Maybe it's her boyfriend. We should definitely find this bloke."

Ron's face turned red. "He's at the top of my list," he said, glaring at the floor.

IIII

"Did you know you filthy mudblood, that they care so little about you that you were a mere blip in papers when they realized your disappearance." Lucius slid the _Daily Prophet_ across the bed to Hermione. "They didn't even mention your name. How does that feel?" He set down a tray of food and water.

Hermione didn't say a word but lunged for the paper. It was her only connection to the outside world in what must have been weeks. She flipped through the pages eagerly, while Lucius stood over her, appraisingly. She noticed a section of the paper cut out right through the center. With eyes narrowed, she looked up.

"Noticed have you?" Lucius asked, holding up the scrap of paper he had conveniently cut out before entering her room. "I can't just give something like this to you. I know how much it must mean…" He picked up the remaining pages of the _Prophet_ and slid it smoothly under his arm. "Now, I can give you this article about you, but first you'll have to do something for me."

Hermione scowled at him, not saying a word.

"I want you to _beg_ _me_ for it."

"You want me to what?"

"You heard me, Granger."

Laughing, Hermione said, "That bit of paper doesn't mean enough to me to lose my self-respect."

"You don't think so?" Lucius crumbled up the scrap of paper into a tight, little ball. "Well then," Lucius said, sweeping his robes out of his way dramatically.

"Wait!" Hermione screamed. She couldn't just let her only connection with real life just walk out the door. She needed to see what that paper said. Hermione needed to know that someone, anyone, was looking for her, cared whether she was alive or dead. He turned to her, smirking.

"I'm waiting…" Obnoxiously, his foot tapped the ground.

"I won't beg for it." She stared at him steely.

"Unfortunately, then you won't be reading this." Again he turned to leave. "In fact, a woman who doesn't do what she's told also does not eat." With a flash of his wand her tray of food disappeared.

Hermione gaped at him, distraught. That was the only food she'd probably get that day. She hadn't eaten since early the day before and she was starving. Her stomach growled audibly. Turning, Lucius laughed. Still she was resolute in her decision. Hermione would not beg.

"Beg me, and you'll have both your food and the paper," Lucius said. His eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms like a disobedient child.

"Like hell I'd beg you for anything." Her eyes were like ice and her stomach grumbled again.

"Don't play these games, Mudblood. I know you're starved for both food and signs of life out there. How long do you think you can keep this up? Sooner or later you'll beg me for it. Why don't you just get it over with and save yourself a little misery?" He stood a little surprised. Lucius had been almost positive her stubbornness would have been broken by now.

"This is no game, Malfoy, and every day here is more miserable than the next. What's a little more? Keep your food and keep your paper. I will not beg you."

Anger was boiling up in his chest. "You will, Granger."

"Do you think so? Are you going to use the Imperious Curse again? Bend me to your will. It's not the same thing is it? Forcing me to do something?" She felt the confidence she'd long ago forsaken take over in her mind.

"As I said before, Mudblood, You will do what I desire of you. It is only a matter of time." Again he pushed his robes behind him dramatically and strode from the room, slamming the door behind him.

With a victory in her chest, Hermione beamed to herself. It was the first pure light of hope she'd had in her long time there. She felt it burning in her chest, knowing she could defeat him when it came to a verbal battle. Proudly, she lay back down and wore her growling stomach like a badge, knowing her strength would lie outside of food.

IIII

With a fury he hadn't felt in years he lost his self-control. He walked into his bedroom and slammed the door so ferociously the mirror in his bureau fell and shattered. He could hear the glass breaking across the room. He scowled in that general direction. Wanting to curse and scream, he struggled senselessly to find his willpower and control himself again. He never, ever let himself go this way. He needed a release. Mentally, the image of Eve floated in. Oh, Eve. He hadn't thought about her in nearly a month. Not having visited her bed in quite a while. Longingly he wished he could apparate to her apartment and let out all of his frustration on her.

Unfortunately, the reality of his situation kept him from whipping out his wand and appearing on her doorstep. He couldn't leave except to go about his regular business. He didn't want to draw any attention to himself or anyone who had any connection between him and the mudblood. He growled angrily.

"That little bitch," he half-whispered to himself. A new sense of shock rolled over him as he thought once more of how she'd stood up to him, no sense of fear in her eyes. "Let's see how courageous she is without food for a few days."

He took off his outer robe and loosened his tie. Sooner or later she'll bend to my will, he thought. She had to. No one could keep up this saintly act for long. She'd lose her self-control before long and she'll be begging on her knees for her life from him. The thought of her on her knees her eyes, large and brown, staring up at him made him grin maniacally.

Clearing his throat, he poured himself a drink from the decanter he kept on a side bar in his room. He would be sure she'd do as he pleased, and he knew he'd thoroughly enjoy the image of her doing it. Until then, he took a sip, he'd be sure to enjoy the fantasy regardless of whether or not she sat in her own room patting herself on the back for standing up to him.

IIII

_The wand she held in her hand was practically vibrating with the immense power it held within. She smiled with the familiar force of it. She slowly walked over her prey writhing on the floor, watching the brown eyes of Bellatrix darken with the challenge. She growled at Hermione. Hermione laughed and kicked her in the side, and pointed the wand in her face. "Isn't it wonderful to be the one lying on the floor in pain?" _

"_Child you don't know what it is to cause pain!" The cackling laugh that once more escaped Bella's lips infuriated Hermione. She listened closely to the soft sounds outside the door. Someone was coming. Smiling Hermione pointed the wand close to Bellatrix. _

"_Petrificus Totalus!" She whispered, and Bella froze completely. _

_Slowly the door creaked open. She saw him enter; his eyes cast downward, first noticing Bella lying immobile on the floor. "Expelliarmus." She said it with a sense of purpose, but other than that she was extremely calm. His wand, long and white, flew from his hand, into the air where Hermione caught it. _

"_Now, now. It looks like our little pet has learned a trick or two," he said, looking down at Bella again and back up at Hermione. His voice was so smooth, it unnerved her. _

_ "Shut it, Malfoy. I'm the one with the wands so I'll do the talking." She tried desperately to hide her fear. _

_ "Now you and I both know, this game that you're playing isn't your strong suit. It's a losing battle, Granger." He stepped over Bellatrix and walked towards her. Bella's eyes followed his every move. _

_ "Silencio!" Lucius stopped talking immediately. "I think I might like you better if you don't speak," Hermione said watching him smile obnoxiously. "I wish I could cause you as much pain as you've caused me." She glared at him, her throat contracting with the tears she would not cry. Lucius' voice began to come back as the spell wear off. _

_ "I don't want to cause you pain, Hermione," He whispered her name softly, lulling her anger away. He stepped toward her one step further. She faltered, lowering her wand for a half second before she raised it again, resolute. _

_ "You can't play these games with me, Malfoy. I don't know what you're after—" _

_ He put his hand to her face, shushing her gently. "I'm not after any one thing in particular." _

_ Again, Hermione lowered her wand. She caught his scent, a clean, fresh scent that she thought would sting her nose but surprisingly, it did not. She looked down at the ground away from his eyes, strikingly blue peering into her own. She caught the eyes of Bellatrix, watching her, her body still frozen still. Though her face itself could not move and convey emotion, Hermione could tell with the depth of her eyes that a sadness was overwhelming Bella when she looked at Lucius' hand on her. Hermione smiled. _

_ "Then what is it you want with me?" Hermione asked, watching Bella's eyes darken with fury. Lucius chuckled. _

_ "I want everything of you," his hand skimmed down her face, down her neck, lightly, he tickled her collarbone. Hermione fought a sigh. "There isn't any reason to be afraid. You can drop your defenses," He said, his voice rolling over her melodically. She was lulled into a false sense of security, and her hand was losing grip on her wand. _

_ Stay strong, she thought, but then she looked up into his eyes, the strikingly blue color catching her off guard. Her breath caught in her chest. Without thinking, she looked away back at Bellatrix, still frozen on the floor, her eyes transfixed on what Lucius was doing to Hermione. Revenge would be sweet, Hermione thought. Anyone with a brain could see the way Bella panted after Malfoy like a dog in heat. _

_ Looking up again she met Lucius' gaze. Eagerly, knowingly, she smiled. "Maybe you can have everything you want," Hermione said, keeping her voice level. She leaned in a millimeter farther, grasping his robes for balance. It was so simple. In a flash her lips were on his and her hands were wrapped in his long blonde locks. Lucius himself stood dumbstruck. Fighting his better instincts he kissed back. With a flash she broke the kiss, sending Bella an evil grin over his shoulder. "Two can play your sick little games, Lucius." She rolled his name on her tongue, liking the way it felt. _

With a sickened grunt Hermione woke up. Her eyes were wide in horror. It was just a dream, she reminded herself. The image of herself kissing Lucius was fresh in her mind. Had she liked it in her dream? Part of her couldn't remember if she had or if it had been part of a plan. Skipping a step ahead, Hermione couldn't help but think it _was_ a good plan.

Maybe the way to break the ranks between Lucius and Bellatrix was to make them fight amongst themselves. Bella really was always after Malfoy. Maybe if Hermione tried her little control game on Lucius in front of Bellatrix it might sent her raging after him. Lucius himself would hate to have Bella trying to have power over him herself… Hermione smiled to herself, conveniently forgetting that she had spent the night dreaming of kissing Lucius.


	26. Falling Up

"Forget injuries, never forget kindnesses." ~Confucius

Chapter 26: Falling Up

Without pretense, he realized he was drunk.

He was horribly drunk.

The liquid squished in his stomach as he threw back yet another glass of whiskey. He squinted his eyes together, rubbing his forehead roughly. With his vision blurred and his stomach flipped over. He hazily heard a noise from down the hall. He stood up, staggering. Holding onto the sidebar he attempted to keep his balance poorly.

Cursing as he fell to the floor in a flurry of robes he growled at his inability to hold his alcohol. He was never like this, he reminded himself. It didn't do much good remember that he typically could hold his alcohol considering at that moment he was lost in an intoxicated haze.

Rising from the floor, his long blonde hair falling in his face, he struggled to his feet. He again heard that thumping noise. Looking at the ground and realizing he wasn't on the floor and the thumping wasn't the sound of his own body hitting the wooden planks, he tottered to the door.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

"Don't ignore me!" Someone called far off.

To Lucius it sounded like someone was speaking to him from the other end of a long stone tunnel, the sound echoing off the walls around him. He stumbled on the dirty runner. He snarled. It was that damn mudblood, he remembered. He thought for a single moment how it would be immensely better to go back to his room and wait for the excess of whiskey to wear off and wash the blurriness from his mind.

Instead he thought, as he held onto the wall, staring at the lump in carpet that he had stumbled over, that he wanted to move forward, he wanted to see the mudblood. The torturous feeling of self-betrayal was growing inside of him, pushing against his lungs like a tumor in his belly. He shrugged it off as if one could merely shake off a tumor.

He took another step forward, shaking his hair out of his face, throwing the long locks over his shoulder. He cleared his throat a little too noisily, shocking himself with the sound of it. He took a deep breath and realized that at that moment and the moments before he was totally and completely inside his mind, not really able to focus on the outside world.

Comprehending that should his son or sister-in-law come upon him walking, falling, down the hallway toward the door of a mudblood, so drunk he smelled the stink of alcohol emanating from himself.

The thumping continued and he struggled to make his way toward it. Within minutes, though it felt like an hour had gone by as he made his way toward her door, he was in front of it, his forehead resting against the cool wood of it. For a moment, as his eyes closed against the haze, he forgot he was drunk. Then as he once more opened his eyes he noticed the haze swirling around him and the nauseating feeling of drunkenness once more came over him.

He reached from the door knob.

The thumping stopped.

He smirked to himself, the predictability of it all astounding him.

"Hello love," he said, letting the door swing open. He could see nothing but a mass of objects all glazed with mist. He stumbled into the room, cursing that he once more tripped on the rug. He turned his back for a mere second, closing the door, pointing his wand and locking it.

"What the fuck do you want?" Her voice was cold and jagged.

He turned back to her.

"Now now," he began, adjusting his dark robes, his hands getting lost in the soft fabric.

"You're bloody drunk."

"Yes, yes I am." He walked towards her, letting go of the wall behind him. Her dark brown eyes, with their fringe of black lashes long and lush, widened.

"What the hell do you want, Malfoy?"

"If you didn't want guests, Granger, you wouldn't have banged on the door for the past hour, calling me down to you."

She cleared her throat, using the time to think. "There really isn't anything else to do," she said finally, looking way from him.

His throat constricted. "Gone soft, have you?"

Hermione scoffed. "Go fuck yourself." Though the words themselves were serrated, the force behind them was weak. He remembered at that moment that she hadn't eaten in days. He studied her face and even in his hazy, drunken state, he could tell that her face was thinner.

"Hungry?" He asked.

"No." She stuck her chin out defiantly. Like a child. "Yes," she admitted finally, her stomach growling audibly. "More thirsty than anything," she confessed her throat scratching, her body, skin dehydrated. She felt as if she were dying, her organs, and her hope giving up one by one.

With a wave of his wand a glass of water was on her nightstand, coming from nothing.

"Is this a trick?"

"No."

"You really are drunk," she said, reaching for the glass. She took a tentative sip, afraid that the shock of fluid in her body would send her to her death that much quicker. "So what torment are you going to preform?" Sarcasm littered her tone, now that she got something out of him. She was too weak to fight.

"No torment…"he mumbled the words, his tongue slurring the pronunciation. "I merely wanted to see what all the banging was about." He took another unsteady step towards her.

Hermione, shocked had never seen him this way. She didn't suppose he was the type of man to usually lose his head in a bottle of liquor. Fear and curiosity equally mingled in her mind as he swayed on the spot.

"Well, now you know. Please leave." Curtly she nodded to him.

"Unfortunately, Mudblood, this is not your room to command. I merely let you stay here." Again he stepped toward her, reaching his hand out to the bedpost to steady himself.

Rolling her eyes, she cleared her throat anxiously.

"You must be starving."

"You've seen to that, haven't you?"

Instantly, next to the half full glass of water a plate of food appeared; steaming pot roast, gravy soaked potatoes and Yorkshire pudding. There was even a small clear vase with a single rose on the tray.

"Go on, eat." He gestured towards the food.

The scent alone was enough to flip Hermione's stomach. She looked at it longingly, wanting to reach out and devour it, lick the plate clean and then beg for more. She scooted on the bed closer towards the food.

"It's yours. You've earned it."

"You aren't going to make me beg? You aren't taunting me are you?"

"Just eat the food, Granger. Go on," he said again when she still made no move towards the food.

Needing no other encouragement she went to the food and reached out her hand.

"There isn't a fork."

"Ah, yes. I figure, if you are really hungry, you shouldn't need one," he goaded her.

Though she knew it was shameful and that this was the cruel trick he had set out to play on her, she needed no further egging on. She was becoming sick with hunger.

She reached for the roast first, taking a slice and tearing into it with her teeth. She cared not at all how she must look like an animal. She played right into his hand, knowing, caring for nothing but the food in front of her. It was all perfect the roast so juicy and soft, it fell apart in her hands. The potatoes she scooped with her fingers, using them like a spoon and shoveling them into her mouth. The saltiness was delectable. With the final piece of meat she lay it on top of the Yorkshire pudding and ate it like a sandwich, letting the drippings of the meat soak further into the bread. Everything was perfect. Everything tasted like a dream. Her belly was full and achy with the pain of food finally being inside. She didn't care. She sat on the bed when she was finished and gulped the remaining water down. She then sat on the bed and hugged her legs to her chest making a cradle for her now full stomach.

"Are you happy now; now that you've seen me eat like an animal? Is that what you wanted?" She glared at him, her strength returning as the food digested.

"I was never unhappy. I only meant to teach you a lesson." In his drunken state he sat down on the bed near her, his vision still blurred. He suddenly felt so tired.

"A lesson about what?" Hermione asked, unsure where this was leading. She knew only one thing and that was that this was not the Lucius Malfoy she knew.

"A lesson about life; sometimes you have to do unpleasant things to survive."

"And this includes eating like a dog? This includes begging for my supper?" She felt sickened though she didn't know if it was from the food being eaten too fast or the words he now said.

"Among other things, those are lessons too. This is a vile, maddening world we live in, Granger. Not everything is rosy. Not everything turns out the way we intend it to." He sighed, focusing his blue eyes on the foot of the bed looking away from her. The room began to spin and his dizziness turned into queasiness. "You have to understand this to survive."

"Why are you telling me this?" She asked out of fear, not knowing where the catch was.

"I don't know…" Lucius let his shoulders slump. To Hermione he looked like a man long defeated. Confusion was straining her senses. Is he so drunk that he doesn't know who he's with, she asked herself. Settling on the conclusion that he must be so intoxicated that he wouldn't remember a damn thing, Hermione loosened her grip on her legs a little. She felt quite certain he wouldn't hurt her, though she couldn't say how she knew it to be so.

"I suppose," he began again. "I suppose that no one ever told me this. I thought someone else would like to know." The exhaustion in his mind spread through his body quickly. He couldn't hold up his head any longer. He slumped down on the bed, the ceiling spinning wildly in his vision. He had to close his eyes, and he groaned in pain.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, watching him fall onto the bed and lay there, his eyes closed. "Are you asleep?" Her voice was tentative. This was unsteady ground she was standing on.

"No. Do not try anything." For a moment, a mere moment, he sounded like himself, and then he gave a most irregular sigh.

The thought of taking his wand never crossed her mind. She just sat there beside him, watching him breathe in and out, his eyes fluttering peacefully.

"Why are you doing this to me?" She asked, taking a chance, hoping whatever happened he would remember nothing the next day and punish her.

"Do you know, Granger, you are like no one else in the world." His words were slightly slurred but Hermione caught his meaning. He cleared his throat.

"What do you mean?"

"Any wizard would have taken my wand by now."

Silence.

"You are an utter mystery to me, Mudblood. I intend to see what makes you tick."

She took a deep breath, not knowing what to make of what he said. "Is that why you've kidnapped me."

"No."

"Why then?"

"I had no choice. Now it is done. There is nothing we can do about it now." With that he sat up most awkwardly and looked over his shoulder at her. His blue eyes stared deep into hers for a long period of time. He never blinked. Her face lost focus for him, becoming only a haziness that he knew was Hermione. He reached out a hand, tentatively, he stroked her face, or what he thought must be her face in the haze.

Sensing a rare kind moment, Hermione took this moment to her advantage. "You could let me go, Malfoy. Please… let me go," she begged.

He heard the tears catch in her throat. He dropped his hand from her face. "I can't do that." He rose from the bed and walked towards the door, his hands out in front of him like a blind man, searching for what lay just beyond.

IIII

When he was gone, she wanted to cry but she did not. The tears would not go past her eyelids. They sat there, drowning her vision for just the fewest of moments before they evaporated and her vision was clear. She lay back on the bed, reveling in the feeling of a full stomach, deciphering his words, trying to make sense of his touch.

It was a side of him she'd never seen, and a part of her thought this side was more terrifying then all the rest. It mystified her. She lay there thinking it over, analyzing everything, but could make sense of nothing. She knew only that no matter what she did or thought, she was still a prisoner; regardless of if he felt any regret for what he'd done.

She rolled onto her back side, curled up against the wall, unable to sleep for most of the night and well into the morning. As the sun began to peak in through the small window with the unbreakable glass (because she had tried to break it), the door opened. She did not move except to raise her eyes to see who it was.

Plunket the house elf entered, trotting with her a tray of food. It was stacked high with sausage and waffles, syrup, toast, scrambled eggs and bacon, orange juice. She wondered if there had been some mistake. So much food could never have been meant for her.

"Is this for me?" She asked the elf, looking into the big, round eyes.

"Yes, miss, from my master."

Hermione's stomach grumbled noisily as the appetizing scents met her on the bed. She smiled at the elf compassionately. "Thank you," she said.

"Yes, my master is very kind in his way," the elf said, curtseying low and trotting from the room.

Hermione wanted to correct her, to let her know that she had thanked her and not 'her master', but the point seemed moot. Instead she turned to the tray and began to eat, thinking how grateful she was that at least today, her belly would not rumble with hunger.


	27. A Harder Battle

"Tenderness and kindness are not signs of weakness and despair, but manifestations of strength and resolution." ~Kahlil Gibran

Chapter 27: A Harder Battle

"So you're feeding her again."

"Thank you for pointing out the obvious, Bella."

"So I guess I can't hope for death by starvation."

"Do you have a point to this incessant chatter?" Lucius asked. He watched as she fingered the folds of the silver and green scarf wrapped around her throat.

"I just don't understand why all of the sudden we're being nice to her." She pushed out her bottom lip in a pouty sort of way as she stumbled over to him and leaned against him.

He scoffed at her, hoping that would stop her silly attempts to be alluring. "Feeding her isn't being nice to her. We need to keep her alive for information. Besides not feeding her before was just a punishment for being headstrong."

"What information have you gotten from her?" Bellatrix asked, suddenly perking up.

"Nothing at this point; I was hoping you'd go in there and _convince_ her to tell us what she knows of the whereabouts of Ronald Weasley."

Lucius turned and began to pour a glass of water. It was only ten a.m. after all. He knew very well that Hermione knew nothing of her old group. He'd watched her for weeks and had never once seen her meet with them. But, he thought decisively, it would give Bellatrix something to do and get her out of his hair. Besides, he didn't want to go in there himself. He was uncertain what had happened exactly two nights previous, when he'd stumbled in there drunk. He knew only that he'd let his guard down. It was something he did not intend to do another time.

He gulped at the icy water and he scrunched up his nose in distaste. God, how he wished it was full of a burning amber scotch instead!

IIII

"Ginny! Ron! Are you here?" Harry ran into the Burrow excited, looking for his wife and brother-in-law. He headed straight for the kitchen hearing someone banging around in there.

"Harry dear? Is that you?"

"Oh hello. Is Ginny not here?"

"You've got a big problem on your hands if you can't keep track of your wife, mate," George said, sitting up in his chair at the table positioned near the kitchen. He shoveled another forkful of eggs into his awaiting mouth.

"No, I'm sorry Harry, she's not here now," Mrs. Weasley said, forcing with a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder to sit down. She placed a plate full of eggs and toast in front of him. "Go on then. Eat up. I'm sure if you're looking for her she's looking for you. She'll check here soon enough. Is anything the matter?" She asked as she set down three mugs and a brimming pot of tea.

"No, no," Harry said, plunging a fork into the eggs, breathing in that sweet aroma. He had missed breakfast that day. "Do you know where Ron is?"

"Well, I'm sure he's around here somewhere," Mrs. Weasley said looking toward the staircase that led up to the many rooms.

"I think he left here a little early, Harry. He was mumbling something about the prophet when I got up," George said taking a mug and filling it with tea.

"Was there anything in the paper, then?" Harry asked, dropping his fork. Their mission to find Hermione, though secret, hadn't been going well. Until that morning, they'd had no leads. Just an hour ago Harry stumbled upon the sister of a Sean McGillicutty who was able to tell him the address of her brother. That's what Harry had gone all the way to the burrow for when after he'd gone home and Ginny hadn't been there. He figured the three of them could all go and interrogate Hermione's boyfriend to see if he had any more information about her.

"Was there anything in the paper about what, dear?"

"Oh nothing. Do you have a copy lying around? I can check it myself," Harry said, piling some eggs on a piece of toast and taking a large bite.

Mrs. Weasley dropped the folded paper on the table in front of Harry. He began to skim for any articles that would have sent Ron running out of there before his mother had even had time to feed him. It wasn't until he was half way through, in a back section of the paper, did he see anything that would interest him. It was tucked between an advertisement for the wand shop in Diagon Alley and a special interest piece on the welfare of garden gnomes.

_Ministry Releases Name of Missing Person_

_Under stress and still unable to find the girl reported missing almost three weeks ago, yesterday afternoon after a small meeting with the Minister of Magic, Gina Roberts, undersecretary to the Minister, called an impromptu press conference. This is what she had to say: _

"_I understand the amount of confusion that has been brought about due to the sudden disappearance of a Ministry official. There is, I repeat, there is absolutely nothing to worry about. We have the investigation well under control. It is at this time that we would like to release the name of the girl in question. Unfortunately the disappearance is of one Miss Hermione Granger of the Muggle Liaison Office. Though we have the situation perfectly under control, it would be extremely helpful that anyone with any connection with Ms. Granger at this time would please step forward. We are doing our best to find Ms. Granger as speedily as possible. We require the help of anyone who knows anything. Once more, for the general public, please do not be alarmed. We are still fairly certain there is nothing to be concerned about at this time. Thank you." _

Harry closed the paper in a hurry and sat fuming, not bothering to read the rest of the article. So now they've released her name in a way to ask for help? What help did they think they'd find stuffing the article in the back like that? They were no further along looking for her then they were! Harry was positively furious. So this is why Ron ran out of here in a hurry. He was probably looking for himself and Ginny.

Well, Harry thought, there isn't much to do now but wait for them both to come back to the Burrow so that they can leave together and go talk to Sean McGillicutty.

IIII

"Where is Ronald Weasley?!" She screeched, her voice going up an entire octave in her anger.

"I told you, I don't know anything about him!" Hermione scowled up at her torturer, glaring, her dark eyes fiery.

"Are you trying to tell me that your boyfriend, the man you almost married, you know nothing about?" Bellatrix laughed. "Even I know these little things about you, Mudblood. Now tell me what the best way to get to him is!"

"I don't know! Even if I did, I wouldn't tell YOU!" Hermione screamed back, sweat beading on her forehead.

"_Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!"_ Each time she screamed the curse Hermione shook grotesquely on the floor. Her voice was sticking in her throat to the point that she wasn't even able to scream out in the pain she felt. Finally, with her muscles, her very bones on fire under her skin, Bellatrix let up.

Hermione slumped to the cold wood floor, sweating, panting. "Are you ready to speak yet, Filth?"

Barely raising her head from the ground, she swiveled her head around on her sore and tender neck. "You'll have to try harder than that."

The curse hit her again. She felt like her body was being ripped in two, the impossible feeling of having her arms dislocate from her body, her legs stretching out into oblivion. Again the curse stopped and she took the break to breathe deeply, to fill her lungs with much needed air.

"Don't worry you little shit, there will be more." Bellatrix leaned down into Hermione's face and stroked one long, pale finger across her cheek and down Hermione's throat, her long black painted nail cutting her skin. "_Sectumsempra_!"

Hermione's skin burst open, her blood pouring out in tiny cuts all over her body. She grasped at her face with her hands, holding in her own blood as it seeped between her fingers. She cried out in pain and fear.

"What the hell are you doing, Bellatrix?!" Lucius stormed into the room only to see Hermione covered in her own blood, no sign of the redness stopping. "What curse did you use?" He screamed, watching as one writhed on the floor in pain and the other smiled evilly from above.

"Sectum—"

"You bitch! I told you to get the information, not kill her!" As soon as the words left his mouth, Bellatrix stared into his blue eyes, glaringly.

"How dare you-"

"GET OUT." It was not a request but a command. "GET OUT NOW!" His booming voice reverberated off the walls.

Bellatrix picked up her skirts and ran, frightened.

Lucius knelt down before Hermione and took his wand waving it over her face, arms, chest, repeatedly mumbling the counter-curse. From thin air, he produced a bottle small bottle. Hermione still crying looked at it, knowing instantly what it was.

"Dittany," she cried, trying to stop her own tears but the pain was still great.

Lucius shushed her, uncorked the bottle and began to apply it to Hermione's face and arms.

"This will have to do for now. There might be scarring, but if I get some Murtlap Essence on it quickly, I think I might be able to avoid even that." He handed the bottle of Dittany to Hermione. "Do you think you can do the rest yourself, while I go and look for the Murtlap?"

She nodded absently, taking the bottle from him. She tried to stand up, gasping in pain.

"Here," Lucius said, reaching down a hand. "Let me." He picked her up and carried her to the bed, laying her on it gently. "I shouldn't be long. Apply that to the rest until I can get back. The Murtlap will help the pain."

With that, Lucius was gone. Hermione sat on the bed, slowly pulling back her shirt and pants, applying the herb to her chest, her legs. The cuts were long and red everywhere she looked. She feared to know what her face would be like. Frightfully, Hermione knew that the scarring would not be avoidable. She thought of George's ear, which had been cursed off with the same spell. But she also knew that should someone know the right counter-curse then it all might be healed. She cursed herself, rubbing the herb into her wounds painfully. It was right stupid of her to be worrying over the way she'd look after being cursed. Things were much worse than that. She'd probably die in here regardless, she thought. What difference would it make if I'm buried with scars all over my face?

She slumped back against the pillows trying to avoid her healing cuts to touch anything. They still ached and burned.

The door flew open in a hurry. Bellatrix stood in the doorway watching her. Her face was twisted into a horrid, maniacal grin. "Feeling better?" She asked, her eyes narrowing on all the cuts across her body.

Hermione recoiled in fear.

"I thought I told you to get out." It wasn't more than his regular tone but the force behind the words was enough to send Bellatrix scurrying away from the doorway. With a slight breeze he marched into the room, his dark robes billowing behind him. He quickly went to her on the bed and sat down beside her. He opened the large bottle and began to apply it to her skin gently.

"I… I… I can do it myself," Hermione managed to say after a time, the words getting caught in her throat at his touch.

"You shouldn't be moving at all," he said abruptly, continuing to stroke his fingers, coated in Murtlap essence across her skin. He slowly peeled away her clothes and let the liquid run over her skin, watching as the redness of the healing cuts began to fade almost immediately. When he was finished, he blew gently against her skin. The sudden burst of cold air made her sigh with relief. He smirked at her. "Does that feel better?" He asked.

She didn't say anything but watched him, his eyes smiling at her.

Lucius watched her face transform from a fearful scowl to a relaxed pose. He stopped smiling. What the hell he was doing, he thought, he didn't know. He stood up from the bed. With a slightly shaking hand, he left the now corked bottled on her bedside table. "I'm going to leave the remainder with you. Should you feel the need, reapply it in a few hours." He walked towards the door, keeping his back to her. With his hand on the doorknob he turned his head ever so slightly and looked back. "I'll have Plunket bring up some food and feed you. You shouldn't move anymore than necessary."

He left the room, closing the door softly behind him.


End file.
